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PAN  MICHAEL 

AN  HISTORICAL  NOVEL 


BY 

HENRYK  SIENKIEWICZ 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE   POLISH  BY 
DR.  SAMUEL   A.  BINION 

TRANSLATOR  OF  "QUO  VADIS,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

THE  FEDERAL  BOOK  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


PRESERVATION 
3OPY  ADDED 
DRIGINALTOef:..; 

RETAINED 

FEB221994 


COPYRIGHT,  1898 
BY  HENRY  ALTEMUS 


Pan  Michael 


HENRY  MORSE  ST 


•ROLOGUE. 


After  the  Hungarian  "War,  when  the  marriage  of  Pan 
Andrey  Kmitsa  with  Panna  Alexandra  Billevick  took  place, 
the  equally  famous  warrior  in  the  Commonwealth,  Pan  Jerzy 
Michael  Volodiyovski,  Colonel  of  the  Lauda  Cavalry,  also  was 
to  have  been  married  to  Panna  Anna  Borzobohata  Krashy- 
enska. 

But  the  affair  was  hindered  and  postponed  by  a  remarkable 
series  of  obstacles.  Panna  Anna  Borzobohata  was  the  foster- 
daughter  of  Princess  Grizelda  Vishnyovyetski,  without  whose 
consent  she  would  not  wed.  Pan  Michael  therefore  was 
obliged  to  leave  Panna  Anna  at  Vodokta  and  set  out  for  Za- 
most1  in  order  to  obtain  her  consent  and  blessing. 

But  his  lucky  star  was  not  in  the  ascendant.  He  did  not 
find  the  princess  in  Zamos^as  she  had  left  for  the  Imperial 
Court  of  Vienna  to  educate  her  son.  The  persevering  Knight 
however  followed  her  to  Vienna,  though  the  journey  con- 
sumed much  time.  There,  matters  were  successfully  ar- 
ranged and  he  returned  to  his  own  land  with  eager  antici- 
pation. 

On  reaching  home  he  found  fresh  troubles:  the  army  wras 
forming  a  confederacy,  the  rebellion  in  the  Ukraine  still  con- 
tinued, and  the  flames  on  the  eastern  frontier  had  not  yet 
been  extinguished.  Fresh  troops  were  levied  so  that  tin 
frontiers  at  least  might  be  protected.  Before  his  arrival  in 
Warsaw,  he  had  received  a  commission  signed  by  the  Russian 
Voyevoda  himself.  Considering  that  patriotism  should 
always  take  precedence  of  private  affairs,  he  abandoned  all 
thoughts  of  immediate  marriage  and  departed  for  the 
Ukraine.  There,  he  fought  for  years,  scarcely  rinding  time 
to  send  even  an  occasional  letter  to  his  anxious  betrothed, 
and  living  in  the  midst  of  incessant  battle,  tqjj  ^nd  hardship. 

1  Zamos'o. 


4  PROLOG VE. 

He  was  next  sent  to  the  Crimea,  and  ihon  followed  the  un- 
happy internecine  strife  in  which  Pan  Michael  took  the  side 
of  the  King  and  fought  against  that  infamous  character,  UK- 
traitor,  Lnbomirski.  Then,  under  Pan  Sobieski,  he  ieJ't  again 
for  the  Ukraine.  From  that  time  on,  his  reputation  grew  so 
greatly  that  he  was  generally  regarded  as  the  foremost  soldier 
of  the  state;  hut  for  him  the  years  were  filled  with  anxieties, 
sighings,  and  longings,  until  at  last  dawned  the  year  1668  in 
which,  at  the  request  of  the  Castellan,  the  order  was  granted 
for  him  to  rest.  At  the  beginning  of  the  year  therefore,  he 
hastened  to  his  beloved  at  Vodokta,  and  with  her,  proceeded 
to  Cracow.  They  went  there  because  Princess  Grizelda,  who 
had  returned  from  the  Imperial  dominions,  had  invited  them 
to  celebrate  their  marriage  at  that  place,  offering  to  become 
the  mother  of  the  bride.  The  Kmitsas  remained  at  Vodokta, 
not  having  received  early  information  of  Pan  Michael's  move- 
ments, and  entirely  occupied  with  the  expectation  of  another 
guest  altogether.  Hitherto,  children  had  been  denied  to 
them,  but  at  last  Providence  had  hrought  about  a  change  in 
accordance  with  their  most  earnest  wishes. 

That  year  was  one  of  marvellous  productiveness.  Grain 
was  so  plentiful  that  the  barns  could  not  contain  it.  The 
country  was  covered  with  stacks  through  its  whole  length 
and  breadth.  In  the  tracts  devastated  by  the  war,  pine  sap- 
lings had  grown  up  in  that  one  Spring  higher  even  than  in 
two  ordinary  years.  There  was  abundance  of  game,  mush- 
rooms carpeted  the  forests,  and  the  waters  teemed  with  fish, 
so  that  it  seemed  as  though  all  the  creatures  of  the  earth  had 
been  endowed  with  an  extraordinary  fecundity.  The  friends 
of  Pan  Michael  regarded  this  condition  of  things  as  a  happy 
omen  for  his  marriage,  but  Fate  had  determined  otherwise. 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


CHAPTER  I. 

On  a  beautiful  day  in  Autumn,  Pan  Andrey  Kmitsa1  was 
sitting  in  a  shady  bower  and  drinking  his  after-dinner  mead: 
from  time  to  time  he  gazed  at  his  wife  through  the  trellis 
which  was  overgrown  with  wild  hops.  Pani  Kmitsa  was  walk- 
ing on  a  well-kept  walk  in  front  of  the  bower. 

She  was  tall,  and  well-shaped,  with  shining  hair  and  a 
serene  and  almost  angelic  face. 

She  walked  with  care  and  deliberation  for  the  Lord  had 
blessed  her  among  women. 

Pan  Andrey  Kmitsa  gazed  lovingly  at  her.  When  she 
moved,  his  eyes  followed  her  with  the  devotion  that  a  dog 
shows  for  his  master.  From  time  to  time  he  smiled,  for  it 
made  him  happy  to  look  at  her,  and  he  twisted  up  the  ends 
of  his  moustache. 

At  such  moments  his  face  was  full  of  mischievous  fun.  It 
was  evident  that  the  soldier  was  of  a  gay  disposition  and  in 
his  bachelor  days  had  had  many  a  frolic. 

The  silence  of  the  garden  was  broken  only  by  the  fall  to 
the  ground  of  the  over-ripe  fruit  and  the  hum  of  insects.  It 
was  early  in  September  and  the  weather  was  beautiful.  The 
extreme  heat  of  the  sun  had  abated,  but  the  golden  glow  was 
still  ample.  In  the  sunlight  rosy  apples  were  glistening 
among  the  grey  leaves  in  such  numbers  as  to  conceal  the 
boughs.  The  branches  of  the  plum-trees  were  bending  under 
the  weight  of  the  fruit  covered  with  greyish  gum. 

The  least  motion  of  the  air  was  shown  by  the  spider-webs 
hanging  from  the  trees;  they  were  swaying  in  a  faint  breeze 
that  scarcely  moved  the  leaves. 

Perhaps  'it  was  the  lovely  weather  that  had  made  Pan 

^Polish  Kmitsits." 


6  ...  'PAN  MICHAEL. 

Andrey  so'  joyous, ''for  : his  face  grew  more  radiant  every 
moment  :  Ajk: IjWt- life; .took  a  .draught  of  mead  and  called  to 
his  wife':**  *  '  :  •*' :  '  • ' 

"Olenka,  come  here!  I  want  to  say  something  to  you." 

"It  may  be  something  that  I  should  not  care  to  hear." 

"As  God  is  dear  to  me,  it  is  not.    Listen  to  me." 

Then  he  caught  her  by  the  waist,  pressed  his  moustache 
to  her  shining  hair  and  whispered: 

"If  a  boy,  let  him  be  Michael." 

She  turned  away  with  a  faint  flush  on  her  face  and  mur- 
mured: 

"But- you  promised  not  to  object  to  Heraclius!" 

"Do  you  not  see  that  it  is  to  honor  Volodiyovski  ?" 

"But  should  we  not  first  remember  my  grandfather?" 

"And  my  benefactor! — H'm!  true, — but  the  next  shall  be 
Michael.  It  must  be  so." 

At  this,  Olenka  stood  up  and  tried  to  free  herself  from 
Pan  Audrey's  arms;  but  he  held  her  closer  to  his  breast  and 
began  to  kiss  her  on  the  eyes  and  mouth,  saying: 

"My  precious  one,  my  dearest  love!" 

At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  boy  ait  the  end  of  the  path  who  ran  quickly 
towards  the  bower. 

"What  is  the1  matter?"  asked  Pan  Andrey,  releasing  his 
wife. 

"Pan  Kharlamp  has  arrived  and  is  waiting  in  the  parlor," 
answered  the  boy. 

"And  here  he  is  himself!"  cried  Pan  Andrey  at  the  sight 
of  a  man  approaching.  "Good  God!  how  grey  his  moustache 
is!  Greetings,  dear  friend!  greetings  old  comrade!" 

Then  he  darted  out  and  hastened  with  open  arms  to  re- 
ceive Pan  Kharlamp.  But  the  latter  first  bowed  low  to 
Olenka,,  whom  he  had  seen  of  old  at  the  court  of  Kieydan; 
then  he  pressed  her  hand  to  his  enormous  moustache  and, 
casting  himself  into  Audrey's  arms,  he  sobbed  on  his 
shoulder. 

"For  God's  sake  what  is  the  matter?"  cried  the  astonished 
host. 

"God  has  given  happiness  to  one  and  taken  it  away  from 
another,"  said  Kharlamp.  "But  the  cause  of  my  grief  I  can 
tell  to  you  only." 

Here  he  glanced  at  Olenka  who,  seeing  thait  he  did  not  wish 
to  speak  in  her  presence,  said  to  her  husband,  "I  will  send 
mead  to  you  gentlemen,  and  meanwhile  I  will  leave  you. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  j 

Pan  Audrey  led  Kharlamp  into  the  bower,  and  seating 
him  on  a  bench  asked: 

"What  is  it?  Are  you  in  need  of  assistance?  Rely  upon 
me  as  upon  Zavisha."1 

"There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  me,"  said  the  old  sol- 
dier, "and  while  I  can  still  move  this  hand  and  this  sabre  I 
need  no  assistance;  but  our  friend,  the  worthiest  knight  in 
the  Commonwealth,  is  in  terrible  suffering.  I  know  not 
whether  he  is  still  breathing/' 

"By  Christ's  wounds!  has  anything  happened  to  Volo- 
diyovski?" 

"Yes/*  said  Kharlamp,  again  giving  way  to  tears.  "Know 
that  Panna  Anna  Borzobohata  has  left  this  vale "m 

"Dead!"  cried  Kmitsa,  bowing  his  head  in  his  hands. 

"As  a  bird  pierced  by  a  dart." 

A  moment's  silence  followed, — there  was  no  sound  but 
that  of  an  occasional  heavy  fall  of  an  apple  to  the  earth  and 
of  Pan  Kharlamp's  sobs  as  he  tried  to  restrain  his  tears.  But 
Andrey  wrung  his  hands  and  shook  his  head  and  kept  re- 
peating: 

"Dear  God!  dear  God!  dear  God!" 

"Your  lordship  will  not  wonder  at  my  tears,"  at  last  Khar- 
lamp  said,  "for  if  the  mere  tidings  of  what  has  happened  op- 
presses your  heart  so  grievously,  what  must  it  be  for  me  who 
witnessed  her  pain  and  sufferings,  that  were  excessive?" 

At  this  point  the-  servant  appeared,  bearing  a  tray  with  a 
pitcher  and  a  second  glass;  he  was  followed  by  Andrews  wife, 
who  could  not  restrain  her  curiosity.  Seeing  from  her  hus- 
band's face  that  he  was  in  great  suffering  she  immediately 
said: 

frWha<t  tidings  have  you  brought?  Do  not  send  me  away. 
I  will  do  my  best  to  comfort  you,  or  weep  with  you,  or  aid 
you  with  my  counsel." 

"Your  head  can  find  no  help  in  this  case,"  said  Pan 
Andrey,  and  I  fear  that  sorrow  may  have  an  evil  effect  on 
your  health." 

"I  can  stand  a  great  deal.  It  is  worse  to  live  in  uncer- 
tainty." 

"Anusia  is  dead,"  said  Kmitsa. 

^  Olenka  turned  pale  and  sank  heavily  down  on  the  bench. 
Kmitsa  thought  that  she  was  going  to  fain^;  but  she  was  af- 

'A  famous  Polish  magnate  of  the  17th  Century,  who  distinguished  himself 
by  his  writings  and  statesmanship — Translator, 


g  PAN   MICHAEL. 

faeted  more  by  grief  than  by  the  shock  of  the  sudden  an- 
nouncement, and  burst  into  tears,  in  which  she  was  joined  by 
the  two  knights. 

"Olenka,"  said  Pan  Andrey,  at  last  trying  to  lead  his  wife's 
thoughts  in  another  direction,  do  you  not  believe  she  is  in 
Paradise?" 

"I  am  not  grieving  for  her,  but  for  her  loss  and  for  the 
bereavement  of  Pan  Michael.  As  for  her  eternal  happiness, 
I  wish  I  had  such  sure  hope  of  my  own  salvation  as  i  have 
of  hers.  A  worthier  maiden,  'or  one  of  a  better  heart  never 
existed.  Oh,  my  Anulka!1  my  beloved  Anulka!"  .... 

"I  saw  her  die,"  said  Kharlamp,  "God  grant  that  none  of 
us  may  die  with  less  piety!" 

Then  silence  followed,  as  though  some  of  the  sharpness 
of  sorrow  had  departed  with  their  tears;  at  length  Kmitsa 
said: 

"Tell  us  how  it  happened,  and  take  some  mead  to  support 
yourself  -at  the  saddest  points  of  your  story." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Kharlamp,  "I  will  drink  now  and 
then,  if  you  will  join  me,  for  grief,  like  a  wolf,  seizes  a  man 
not  only  by  the  heart  but  also  by  the  throat,  and  when  it 
seizes  him  there  is  no  help,  it  chokes  him.  I  was  on  my  way 
from  Chenstohovo  to  settle  down  on  a  farm  in  my  native 
place  in  my  old  age.  I  have  had  enough  of  war;  I  began  as 
a  stripling  and  now  my  moustache  is  grey.  If  I  cannot  stay 
at  home  altogether  I  will  serve  in  one  of  the  squadrons,  but 
these  military  confederations  are  formed  to  the  detriment  of 
the  fatherland  and  comfort  of  the  enemy,  and  this  eternal 
civil  strife  has  thoroughly  disgusted  me  with  war.  .  .  . 
Good  God!  the  pelican  nourishes  its  young  with  its  own  blood, 
but  this  country  has  no  longer  any  blood  left  in  its  breast, 
Sviderski  was  a  great  warrior.  .  .  ,,  May  God  judge  him 
there.  .  .  . 

|  "My  most  beloved  Anulu!"  interrupted  Olenka,  weeping, 
'''without  thee  what  would  have  happened  to  me  and  all  of 
us!  Thou  wast  a  refuge  and  a  defence  to  me!  Oh,  my  be- 
loved Anulu!" 

As  he  heard  her,  Kharlamp  again  began  to  sob,  but  Andrey 
broke  in  with  the  question: 

"But  where  did  you  go  to  meet  Pan  Michael?" 

To  Chenstohovo,  where  they  intended  to  rest,  fe~  v 

*Anulka,  Anula,  and  Anusia  are  endeariug  name*  of  At»«a. 


PAN  MICHAEL.  9 

on  the  road  they  would  make  offerings.  He  immediately  told 
me  how  that  he  was  going  from  this  place  to  Cracow  to  visit 
Princess  Grizelda,  without  whose  permission  and  blessing 
Anusia  would  not  marry.  She  was  in  good  health  then  and 
Pan  Michael  was  as  joyous  as  a  bird.  0,  he  said,  "See  what  a 
reward  the  Lord  has  given  me  for  my  labor/'  He  bragged 
a  good  deal,  too  (God  comfort  him!)  and  joked  with  me  not 
a  little  because,  as  you  know,  at  one  time  I  quarrelled  with 
him  about  the  lady  and  we  were  nearly  fighting  a  duel.  And 
now,  poor  woman!  where  is  she?" 

Here  Kharlamp  again  burst  into  tears  until  Audrey 
checked  him  a  second  time',  asking: 

"You  say  she  was  well:  then  how  did  it  happen  so  sud- 
denly?" 

"What  is  sudden  is  sudden.  She  was  staying  with  Pani 
Mairtsinova  Zamoyska,,  who  was  spending  some  days  at  Chens- 
tohovo  with  her  husband.  Pan  Michael  would  sit  by  her  side 
all  day,  he  was  rather  impatient  with  the  delay  and  said  that 
at  that  rate  they  would  be  a  whole  year  on  the  journey  to 
Cracow  because  everyone  on  the  way  would  want  to  detain 
them.  And  no  wonder!  Everybody  would  be  happy  to  en- 
tertain such  a  soldier  as  Pan  Michael  and  all  who  could  get 
hold  of  him  would  keep  him.  He  also  took  me  to  his  lady 
and  smilingly  threatened  to  cut  me  to  pieces  if  I  attempted 
to  make  love  to  her;  but  she  had  no  eyes  for  anybody  else. 
1  sometimes  felt  squeamishly  because  an  old  man  like  myself 
is  like  a  nail  in  a  wall.  No  matter!  One  night  Pan  Michael 
came  running  in  to  me  in  great  distress:  "For  God's  sake, 
can  you  find  a  doctor?"  "What  has  happened?"  "She  is  so 
ill  that  she  does  not  recognize  anyone."  "When  was  she 
taken  ill?"  I  asked.  "Pani  Zamoyska  has  brought  me  word," 
he  replied.  "It  is  now  night.  Where  can  I  find  a  doctor  in 
this  place  where  there  is  nothing  but  a  cloister  and  more  ruins 
than  people?"  At  last  I  found  a  barber  surgeon,  but  even  he 
was  unwilling  to  come  till  I  threatened  violence  with  my  axe. 
But  a  priest  was  more  necessary  than  a  doctor  and  indeed  we 
found  a  worthy  Paulist  who  restored  her  to  consciousness 
with  his  prayers.  She  was  able  to  receive  the  sacrament  and 
take  an  affecting  farewell  of  Pan  Michael.  By  the  next  noon 
it  was  all  over  with  her.  The  barber  surgeon  said  that  some- 
thing must  have  been  administered  to  her,  but  that  is  im- 
possible, for  philters-  are  ineffective  in  Chenstohovo.  But 
what  happened  to  Pan  Michael!  What  did  he  say?— -I  h<jpc 


I0  PAN   MICHAEL. 

that  the  Lord  Jesus  will  not  hold  him  to  account  for  it,  for 
a  man  does  not  heed  his  words  when  grief  is  tearing  at  his 
heart.  (Pan  Kharlamp  here  lowered  his  voice.)  "You  see," 
he  said,  "in  his  madness  he  blasphemed." 

"For  God's  sake!  did  he  blaspheme?"  asked  Pan  Kmitsa 
in  a  whisper. 

"From  her  corpse  he  rushed  out  into  the  ante-chamber, 
and  from  there  into  the  yard  and  reeled  about  like  a  drunken 
man.  He  raised  his  clenched  fists  on  high  and  cried  in  a 
terrible  voice:  'Such  is  my  reward  for  my  wounds,  for  my 
labors,  for  my  blood,  for  my  attachment  to  my  country!  .  .  . 
I  had  one  ewe-lamb  and  that  one,  0  Lord,  Thou  hast  taken 
from  me.  To  strike  down  an  armed  man  who  walks  the  earth 
in  his  pride  is  a  deed  for  God's  hand,  but  a  cat,  a  hawk,  or 
a  kite  can  kill  a  harmless  dove,  and ' ; 

"By  God's  wounds!"  cried  Olenka,  "say  no  more,  or  you 
will  bring  misfortune  upon  this  house." 

Kharlamp  crossed  himself  and  continued.  "The  distracted 
soldier  thought  that  after  all  his  service  this  was  his  reward. 
Ah,  God  knows  best  what  he  is  doing  though  it  is  not  clear  to 
human  reason,  nor  can  be  gauged  by  human  justice." 

"Immediately  after  blaspheming  he  became  rigid  and  fell 
to  the  earth  and  the  Paulist  read  an  exorcism  over  him  so 
that  evil  spirits  should  not  enter  into  him  as  they  might, 
taking  advantage  of  his  blasphemy." 

"Did  he  soon  recover?" 

"He  lay  like  one  dead  for  about  an  hour  and  then  revived 
and  retired  to  his  chamber,  refusing  to  see  anyone.  At  the 
burial  I  said  to  him,  "Let  your  heart  turn  to  God."  He  re- 
plied not  a  word.  I  stayed  three  days  longer  at  Ohenstohovo, 
as  I  was  unwilling  to  leave  him;  but  he  would  not  open  his 
door  to  me.  He  did  not  want  me.  I  gave  much  anxious 
thought  to  the  question  whether  I  should  make  further  efforts 
to  get  in  or  go  away  and  leave  him.  How  could  I  leave  such 
a  man  comfortless?  But  not  being  able  to  do  anything  I 
went  to  Pan  Skshetuski.  He  is  his  best  friend  and  Pan  Zag- 
loba  is  also  a  friend  of  his,  perhaps  they  will  manage  to  touch 
his  heart,  mo<re  especially  Pan  Zagloba,  who  is  clever  and 
knows  how  to  prevail  with  people." 

"Did  you  go  to  Skshetuski's?" 

"I  did,  but  even  there  I  was  unfortunate,,  for  both  he  and 
Zagloba  had  gone  to  Kalish  to  see  the  captain  of  horse, 
Pan  Stanislav.  No  one  knew  when  they  would  return.  Then 


PAN  MICHAEL.  n 

I  reflected,  'As  Jmudj  is  on  iny  way,  I  will  go  to  Pan  Andrey 
and  tell  him  what  has  occurred/  '; 

"I  always  knew  that  you  were  a  worthy  knight/7  said  An- 
drey. 

"In  this  case  it  was  not  a  question  of  myself  but  of  Pan 
Michael,  and  I  must  confess  I  have  great  fears  that  his  mind 
is  unbalanced/' 

"God  preserve  him  from  that,"  said  Olenka. 

"If  God  preserves  him  he  will  certainly  take  the  cowl,  for 
I  assure  you  that  I  have  never  seen  such  grief  as  his  in  all 
my  life.  It  is  a  pity  for  such  a  soldier  as  he  is — a  great  pity!" 

"Why  a  pity?  It  would  be  to  the  greater  glory  of  God," 
said  Olenka. 

Kharlamp's  lips  moved  and  he  passed  his  hand  across  his 
brow. 

"Well,  gracious  lady,  either  it  will  or  will  not.  Think  how 
many  infidels  and  heretics  he  has  slain  in  his  Hie  which  surely 
has  pleased  Our  Saviour  and  His  Mother  more  than  any  priest 
could  with  sermons.  IFm!  it  is  a  pleasant  thing  to  think  of. 
Let  each  man  serve  the  glory  of  God  in  his  own  way  as  he  best 
can.  There  are  thousands  wiser  than  he  among  the  Jesuits, 
but  there  is  not  such  another  sabre  in  the  Commonwealth." 

"As  God  is  dear  to  me,  that  is  true,"  cried  Andrey.  "Do 
you  know  if  he  stayed  on  in  Chenstohovo?" 

"He  was  still  there  when  I  left;  I  know  not  what  he  has 
done  since.  This  only  I  pray:  God  preserve  him  from  losing 
Ms  mind,  God  preserve  him  from  sickness  which  often  ac- 
companies despair,  he  is  alone, — alone  without  help,  without 
a  relative,  without  a  friend,  and  without  consolation." 

"May  Our  Most  Holy  Lady  of  that  place  of  miracles  save 
thee,  trusty  friend,  for  no  brother  could  have  done  more  than 
thou  hast  done  for  me!" 

Olenka  became  very  thoughtful  and  there  was  a  long 
silence;  at  length  she  raised  her  shining  head  and  said,  "Yen- 
drek.1  you  remember  all  that  we  owe  him?" 

"If  I  forget  I  will  borrow  the  eyes  of  a  dog,  for  I  shall 
never  again  dare  to  look  an  honest  man  in  the  face  with  my 
own." 

"Yendrek,  you  cannot  leave  him  in  that  condition." 

"How  can  I  help  him?" 

"Go  to  him." 

"There  speaks  a  woman's  true  heart;  there  i»  a  noble 

*The  same  as  Andrey. 


12  PAN   MICHAEL. 

woman/7  cried  Kharlamp,  seizing  her  hands  and  covering 
them  with  kisses. 

But  the  'advice  did  not  please  Pan  Andrey;  so  he  shook 
his  head  and  said,  "I  would  go  to  the  world's  end  for  him, 
but — you  know  how  it  is — if  you  were  well — I  might — but 
you  know.  God  preserve  you  from  any  accident!  The  wife 
comes  before  the  best  friend.  I  am  sorry  for  Pan  Michael, 
but — you  know." 

"I  will  remain  under  the  care  of  the  Lauda  Fathers.  Every- 
thing is  quiet  here  now  and  there  is  nothing  for  me  to  be 
afraid  of.  Without  the  will  of  God  not  a  hair  of  my  head  will 
fall  to  the  ground;  and  there  Pan  Michael  needs  rescue  per- 
chance." 

"Indeed  he  does  need  it!"  added  Kharlamp. 

"Yendrek,  I  am  in  good  health.  No  harm  will  come  to  me; 
I  know  that  you  do  not  want  to  go." 

"I  would  rather  attack  cannon  with  an  oven-stick !"  Andrey 
broke  in. 

"If  you  do  not  go  do  you  not  think  it  will  be  hard  for  you 
when  you  reflect  'I  have  abandoned  my  friend?'  and  more- 
over the  Lord  in  his  righteous  indignation  may  well  deprive  us 
of  his  blessing." 

"You  have  raised  a  knotty  point  for  me.  You  say  that  he 
may  take  away  his  blessing?  I  dread  that  thought." 

"It  is  a  sacred  duty  to  save  such  a  friend  as  Pan  Michael." 

"I  am  devoted  to  Michael.  It  is  a  hard  case!  If  there  is  a 
necessity  for  it,  it  is  immediate,  for  in  this  matter  every  hour 
counts.  I  will  go  to  the  stables  without  delay.  By  the  living 
God,  is  there  no  alternative.  The  Devil  inspired  those  fel- 
lows to  go  to  Kalish.  With  me  it  is  not  a  question  of  myself 
but  of  you,  beloved,  I  would  rather  lose  all  that  I  possess  than 
do  without  you  for  one  day.  If  anyone  said  that  I  left  you  ex- 
cept upon  public  service  I  would  drive  my  sword  into  his 
mouth  up  to  the  cross-hilt.  You  say  it  is  my  duty!  So  be  it. 
The  man  who  hesitates  is  lost.  If  it  were  for  anyone  but 
Michael  I  would  not  do  it." 

Here  he  turned  to  Kharlamp,  "Noble  sir,  I  beg  you  to  ac- 
company me  to  the  stables  and  we  will  choose  our  horses. 
And  you,  Olenka,  see  that  my  baggage  is  ready.  Get  some  of 
the  Lauda  men  to  attend  to  the  threshing.  Pan  Kharlamp 
you  must  stay  with  us  for  a  fortnight  at  least;  you  will  look 
after  my  wife  in  my  absence.  You  can  find  some  land  to  suit 
you  in  this  neighborhood.  Take  Lubich!  Come  to  the  sta- 
bles. I  will  start  in  an  hour.  If  it  must  be — it  must  be!" 


CHAPTER  II. 

Sometime  before  sunset  the  Knight  took  leave  of  his  tear- 
ful wife  who  blessed  his  departure  with  a  crucifix  in  which 
were  portions  of  the  True  Cross  set  in  gold,  and  as  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  taking  sudden  journeys  for  many  years, 
he  started  out  as  if  after  Tartars  who  were  vanishing  with 
spoil. 

After  passing  Yilno  he  proceeded  through  Grodno  to 
Bialystok  and  so  to  Sy  edicts.1  In  Lukov  he  learned  that 
Pan  Yan  Skshetuski  had  returned  the  day  before  from  Kalish 
with  his  family  and  Pan  Zagloba.  He  therefore  determined 
to  seek  them,  for  who  could  better  advise  as  to  the  means  of 
saving  Pan  Michael? 

They  were  surprised  and  delighted  to  see  him  but  when  he 
told  them  the  cause  of  his  visit  their  joy  was  turned  into 
sorrow. 

Pan  Zagloba  did  not  recover  his  equanimity  the  whole  day 
and  shed  so  many  tears  that,  as  he  afterwards  said,  the  water 
in  the  mill-pond  rose  and  they  had  to  open  the  flood-gate. 
But  when  his  eyes  had  run  dry  he  fell  into  deep  thought  and 
at  the  council  he  delivered  himself  as  follows: 

"Yan  cannot  go  for  he  is  elected  to  the  Chapter;  there  will 
be  many  matters  to  attend  to,  as  the  land  is  full  of  restless 
spirits  after  so  much  war.  From  what  you  say,  Andrey,  it  is 
evident  that  the  storks  will  remain  at  Vodokta  the  whole 
winter,  since  they  are  on  the  programme  and  must  perform 
their  functions.  No  wonder  that  under  such  domestic  con- 
ditions you  are  not  anxious  to  undertake  the  journey  especi- 
ally since  we  can't  tell  how  long  it  may  take.  You  have  shown 
your  noble  heart  by  coming,  but  my  candid  advice  is  to  re- 
turn, for  in  this  case  Michael  needs  a  close  confidant,  one  who 
will  not  take  a  sharp  answer  to  heart,  nor  be  hurt  at  any  un- 
willingness to  receive  him.  What  is  wanted  is  patience  and 
great  experience  and  you  have  only  friendship  for  Michael, 
which  is  not  sufficient.  But  don't  be  angry,  for  you  must 

iSiedlec. 

(13) 


I4  PAN   MICHAEL. 

acknowledge  that  Yan  and  I  are  older  friends  of  his  and  have 
passed  through  more  adventures  with  him  than  you  have. 
Dear  God,  on  how  many  occasions  have  he  and  I  saved  each 
other,  from  disaster!77 

"I  will  resign  my  duties  as  a  deputy!"  Pan  Yan  interrupted. 

"Yan  that  is  public  duty!"  protested  Zagloba  sternly. 

"God  knows/7  cried  the  troubled  Pan  Yan,  "that  I  love  my 
cousin  with  true  fraternal  affection;  but  Michael  is  closer  to 
me  than  a  brother  even." 

"He  is  closer  to  me  than  any  blood  relation,  especially  as 
I  never  had  one.  This,  is  not  the  time  to  discuss  our  affection. 
You  see,  Yan,  if  this  misfortune  had  just  fallen  upon  Michael 
I  might  say  to  you  'Let  the  Diet  go  to  the  DeviF  and  go!  But 
think  how  much  time  it  has  taken  for  Pan  Kharlamp  to  go  to 
Jmudj  from  Chenstohovo  and  for  Andrey  to  reach  here  from 
Jnmdj.  Now,  it  is  not  only  necessary  to  go  to  Michael,  but 
to  stay  with  him;  not  only  to  sorrow  with  him,  but  to  reason 
with  him;  not  only  to  point  to  the  Crucified  as  an  example, 
but  to  cheer  him  up  with^pleasant  humour.  So  you  see  who 
ought  to  go, — I,  and  I  will  go,  so  help  me  God!  If  I  find 
him  at  Chenstohovo  I  will  bring  him  here;  if  not  I  will  follow 
him  even  to  Moldavia  and  will  not  cease  to  seek  him  while  I 
have  the  strength  left  to  take  a  pinch  of  snuff." 

When  they  heard  this  the  two  cavaliers  began  to  embrace 
Pan  Zagloba  and  he  became  somewhat  affected  at  the  thought 
of  Pan  Michael's  misfortune  and  his  own  approaching  toils. 
So  he  began  to  weep  and  at  last  when  they  had  embraced  him 
to  liis  content  he  said: 

"Do  not  thank  me  for  Michael:  you  are  no  nearer  to  him 
than  I." 

"We  are  not  thanking  you  for  Pan  Michael,"  said  Andrey, 
but  a  man  must  have  a  hard  and  inhuman  heart  indeed  not  to 
be  moved  at  the  sight  of  your  readiness,  which,  at  a  friend's 
necessity,  takes  no  account  of  fatigue  and  no  thought  of  age. 
At  your  years  other  men  are  thinking  of  a  comfortable  nook 
by  the  fire;  but  you  talk  of  a  long  journey  as  if  you  were  no 
older  than  Pan  Yan  or  myself." 

Pan  Zagloba  made  no  secret  of  his  years,  it  is  true;  but  he 
did  not  like  people  to  talk  as  if  incapability  accompanied  old 
age.  So  that  though  his  eye?  were  still  red  he  glanced  sharply 
and  somewhat  resentfully  at  Pan  Andrey  and  replied: — 

"My  dear  sir,  at  the  beginning  of  my  seventy-seventh  year 
1  felt  a  slight  sinking  at  the  heart  because  two  axes  were  over 


PAN    MICHAEL.  !5 

my  neck,  but  when  the  eighth  decade  had  passed  I  gained 
such  spirit  that  a  wife  came  tripping  into  my  mind.  And  if 
I  had  married  we  might  have  seen  which  of  us  would  first 
have  had  cause  to  boast,  you  or  I." 

"I  do  not  boast,"  said  Andrey,  "but  neither  do  I  flatter 
you." 

"And  I  should  certainly  have  confounded  you  as  I  did 
Pototski,  the  Hetman,  in  the  king's  presence  when  he  was 
jesting  about  my  age.  I  challenged  him  to  try  who  could 
make  the  greatest  number  of  consecutive  goat-springs.  And 
what  was  the  result?  Revera  made  three;  the  haiduks  had  to 
lift  him  for  he  could  not  get  up  alone;  and  I  went  all  over  the 
place  with  thirty-five  springs.  Ask  Pan  Yan  who  was  a  wit- 
ness to  it  all!" 

Pan  Yan,  who  was  long  accustomed  to  have  Zagloba  appeal 
to  him  as  a  witness  to  everything,  did  not  move  an  eyelid  but 
returned  to  the  subject  of  Pan  Michael.  Zagloba  was  silent 
and  seemed  to  be  thinking  deeply;  at  last  he  recovered  his 
good  humor  and  after  the  meal  he  said: — 

"I  will  tell  you  something  that  would  not  occur  to  every- 
one. I  trust  to  God  that  our  Michael  will  get  over  this 
calamity  more  easily  than  we  thought  at  first." 

"God  grant  it!  but  what  makes  you  think  so?"  asked 
Andrey. 

"H'm!  Besides  being  well  acquainted  with  Michael,  a 
natural  quick  wit  and  long  experience  are  needed,  and  that  is 
not  possible  at  your  years.  Every  man  has  his  own  special 
gifts.  When  misfortune  strikes  some  men  it  is,  figuratively 
speaking,  like  casting  a  stone  into  a  river.  On  the  surface 
the  water  flows  on  quietly,  but  the  stone  lies  on  the  bottom 
and  impedes  the  current  and  breaks  it  dreadfully  and  it  will 
lie  there  and  break  it  till  all  the  waters  cease  flowing  into  the 
Styx_  Yan,  you  may  be  classed  among  such  men;  but  the 
world  has  more  suffering  for  them,  for  the  pain  and  the 
memory  of  what  caused  it  never  leave  them.  But  others  take 
misfortune  like  a  punch  on  the  shoulder.  They  lose  their 
senses  for  a  moment  but  soon  revive  and  when  the  black-and- 
blue  bruise  is  gone  they  forget  it.  Ah!  that  kind  of  nature  is 
the  best  for  this  world  which  is  full  of  vicissitudes." 

The  cavaliers  attentively  listened  to  Zagloba's  words  of 
wisdom;  he  was  gratified  at  their  respectful  attention  and  pro- 
ceeded:— 

"I  know  Michael  thoroughly:  and  God  is  my  witness  that 


Ib  PAX    MICHAEL. 

I  have  no  desire  to  find  fault  with  him  now  but  I  have  an  idea 
that  his  grief  is  more  for  the  loss  of  the  marriage  than  of  the 
maiden.  It  is  nothing  that  a  terrihle  despair  has  taken  hold 
of  him,  though  that  too  lies  hard  upon  him.  You  cannot 
conceive  what  a  desire  that  man  had  to  marry.  In  his  nature 
there  is  no  manner  of  greed,  nor  ambition,  nor  self-seeking; 
he  has  neglected  what  he  possessed,  he  has  as  good  as  lost  his 
own  fortune,  he  forgot  his  salary;  but  in  return  for  all  his 
toils  and  services  he  only  demanded  from  the  Lord  God  and 
the  Commonwealth  a  wife.  And  in  his  own  soul  he  said  that 
he  was  entitled  to  such  bread,  and  he  was  about  to  put  it  in 
his  mouth  when  at  that  very  moment  it  was  as  if  someone 
jeered  at  him  and  said,  'Now  you  have  it!  Eat  it!'  Is  it  any 
wonder  that  he  gave  way  to  despair?  I  do  not  say  that  he 
did  not  grieve  over  the  maiden;  but,  as  God  is  dear  to  me,  he 
grieved  more  about  the  marriage,  though  of  course  he  himself 
would  swear  to  the  contrary." 

"God  grant  it!"  repeated  Pan  Yan. 

"Wait!  Only  let  those  wounds  in  his  heart  close  and  be 
covered  with  fresh  skin,  and  we  shall  see  whether  his  old  de- 
sire does  not  return.  The  only  danger  is  that  now,  crushed 
with  despair,  he  may  take  some  step  or  make  some  decision 
that  afterwards  he  would  regret.  But  whatever  was  to  hap- 
pen has  already  happened,  for  in  misfortunes  decisions  are 
quickly  made.  My  servant  is  packing  my  clothes.  I  am  not 
saying  this  to  dissuade  you  from  going  but  only  to  comfort 
you." 

"Once  again,  father,  you  will  be  a  healing  balm  to  Michael/' 
said  Pan  Yan. 

"As  I  was  to  you,  you  recollect?  If  only  I  can  find  him 
soon,  for  I  fear  that  he  may  be  hiding  in  some  ruins,  or  will 
disappear  somewhere  among  the  far  steppes  with  which  he 
has  been  familiar  since  childhood.  Pan  Kmitsits,  your  lord- 
ship dwells  upon  my  years;  but  I  tell  you  that  if  ever  a  Boyar1 
courier  made  such  speed  with  his  despatches  as  I  shall,  then 
when  I  return  set  me  to  untangle  a  skein,  shell  peas,  or  work 
at  the  distaff.  Hardships  shall  not  deter  me,  nor  marvels  of 
hospitality  turn  me  aside;  eating  and  drinking  even  shall  not 
detain  me.  You  have  never  yet  seen  such  a  journey!  I  can 
scarcely  sit  still  now,  it  seems  as  if  someone  were  pricking  me 
with  an  awl  under  the  chair.  I  have  even  given  orders  for 
my  travelling-shirt  to  be  rubbed  with  goat's  grease  so  as  to  be 
proof  against  snakes."  .  .  . 

JBojar  (Boyar),  ft  Noble  of  the  equestrian  order. 


CHAPTER  III. 

However,  Pan  Zagloba  did  not  make  such  speed  as  he 
had  promised  his  friends.  The  nearer  he  came  to  Warsaw 
the  more  slowly  he  travelled.  It  was  at  that  point  when 
John  Casimir,  king,  statesman,  and  great  leader,  having  ex- 
tininguished  the  flames  of  foreign  war  and  having,  as  it  were, 
drawn  the  Commonwealth  out  of  the  depths  of  a  deluge,  had 
abdicated  power.  He  had  suffered  everything,  endured  every- 
thing, and  exposed  his  breast  to  every  blow  from  the  foreign 
foe,  but  when  subsequently  he  had  attempted  internal  re- 
forms and  had  only  met  with  opposition  and  ingratitude 
from  the  nation  instead  of  aid,  of  his  own  free  will  he  took 
from  his  anointed  head  the  crown  whose  weight  had  be- 
come intolerable  to  him. 

The  local  and  general  diets  had  already  been  held,  and  Praj- 
movski,  the  Primate,  had  summoned  the  Convocation  for 
November  the  fifth. 

The  early  efforts  of  various  candidates  and  the  rivalries 
of  the  several  parties  were  very  great;  and  though  the  elec- 
tion alone  could  decide,  yet  all  felt  the  unusual  importance 
of  the  Diet  of  Convocation.  Therefore  deputies  from  all 
directions  were  hastening  to  Warsaw  in  carriage  and  on  horse- 
back, with  servants  and  followers;  senators  were  proceeding 
to  the  capital  each  with  a  brilliant  escort. 

The  roads  were  thronged;  the  inns  were  crowded;  and  the 
discovery  of  rooms  for  even  one  night  was  attended  with  great 
delay.  However  chambers  were  given  up  to  Zagloba  out  of 
respect  to  his  years,  but  on  the  other  hand  his  great  fame 
frequently  exposed  him  to  loss  of  time. 

It  happened  thus:  he  would  arrive  at  some  inn  where  not 
another  finger  could  be  squeezed  in,  whereupon  the  person- 
age, who  occupied  the  house  with  his  retinue,  would  come 
out  through  curiosity  to  see  the  new  arrival,  and,  seeing  a 
man  with  a  beard  and  moustache  as  white  as  milk,  and  moved 
by  his  venerable  appearance,  would  say: — 

"I  pray  your  beneficent  lordship  to  come  in  with  me  for  a 
little  refreshment." 


1 8  PAN  MICHAEL. 

Pan  Zagioba  was  no  churl  and  would  not  refuse,  as  lie 
knew  that  every  man  would  be  pleased  to  make  his  acquaint- 
ance. As  his  host  led  him  across  the  threshold  and  as  Iced 
"Whom  have  I  the  honor  of  entertaining?"  he  would  simply 
put  his  hands  on  his  ribs  and,  sure  of  the  effect,  answer  in 
the  two  words: 

"Zagloba  sum!" 

Indeed  after  those  two  words  a  great  opening  of  arms 
never  failed  to  follow,  with  such  exclamations  as  "I  shall 
number  this  among  my  happiest  days!"  And  the  officers 
or  nobles  present  would  say,  "Look  at  him!  there  is  the  pat- 
tern, the  gloria  et  decus  (glory  and  honor)  of  all  the  pillars 
of  the  Commonwealth."  Then  they  thronged  to  gaze  at 
Zagloba  and  the  younger  of  them  came  and  kissed  the  hem 
of  his  travelling-coat.  Then  they  took  kegs  and  vessels  out 
of  the  wagons  and  a  gaudium  (drinking-bout)  followed  and 
sometimes  lasted  for  several  days. 

Everybody  thought  that  he  was  going  as  a  deputy  to  the 
Diet  and  when  he  denied  it  there  was  general  astonishment. 
But  he  explained  that  he  had  ceded  his  mandate  to  Pan 
Domashevski,  so  that  younger  men  might  devote  themselves 
to  public  affairs.  To  a  few  he  stated  the  real  reason  of  his 
journey  but  to  the  inquiries  of  others  he  replied  as  follows: 

"Accustomed  to  war  from  my  childhood,  in  my  old  age 
I  wanted  to  strike  a  last  blow  with  Doroshenko." 

At  these  words  ihey  marvelled  still  more  and  in  no"  one's 
eyes  did  he  lose  importance  for  not  being  a  deputy,  for  all 
fenew  that  among  the  spectators  were  many  who  were  more 
powerful  than  the  deputies  themselves.  Moreover  every 
senator,  even  the  most  eminent  reflected  that  the  election 
would  take  place  in  a  couple  of  months  and  then  the  slightest 
word  of  a  man  of  such  reputation  among  the  nobles  would 
be  inestimably  valuable. 

Therefore  they  carried  Zagloba  about  in  their  arms  and 
even  the  greatest  lords  stood  before  him  with  uncovered 
heads.  Pan  Podlaski  drank  with  him  for  three  days;  the 
Patsovs,  whom  he  met  at  Katushyn,1  bore  him  in  their  arms. 

More  than  one  man  gave  orders  to  fill  the  old  hero's  baskets 
with  expensive  presents,  from  vodka  and  wine  to  richly  or- 
namented caskets,  sabres,  and  pistols. 

Zalgoba's  servants  also  greatly  profited;  and  notwithstand- 
ing his  promises  and  intentions,  he  travelled  so  slowly  that 
he  did  not  reach  Minsk  till  the  third  week. 

iKatuszyn. 


PAN  MICHAEL.  19 

But  there  he  did  not  halt  for  refreshments.  As  he  was 
driving  through  the  square  he  saw  so  striking  and  splendid 
a  retinue  that  nothing  he  had  yet  met  on  the  way  could 
equal  it:  retainers  in  brilliant  colors  and  at  least  half  a  regi- 
ment of  infantry,  for  people  did  not  go  on  horseback  and 
armed  to  the  Diet  of  Convocation, — but  these  troops  were 
*o  well-ordered  that  the  King  of  Sweden  himself  had -no 
better  guard;  the  square  was  filled  with  gilded  carriages  bear- 
ing tapestry  and  carpets  for  use  in  the  inns  along  the  way; 
wagons  with  boxes  of  provisions  and  food,  attended  by  ser- 
vants who  were  principally  foreigners  so  that  in  the  whole 
crowd  very  few  could  make  themselves  understood. 

At  last  Zagloba  saw  an  attendant  in  the  Polish  dress,  so, 
giving  orders  to  halt  and  feeling  sure  of  good  entertain- 
ment, he  had  already  put  one  foot  on  the  ground  and  asked: 

"Whose  is  this  retinue  that  is  so  gorgeous  that  the  King 
can  have  no  finer?" 

The  attendant  answered,  "Whose  should  it  be  but  our  lord, 
the  Prince  Marshal  of  Lithuania?" 

"Whose,"  repeated  Zagloba. 

"Are  you  deaf?  Prince  Boguslav  Radzivill,  who  is  going 
to  the  Convocation  and  who,  God  grant,  after  the  election  will 
find  himself  to  be  chosen." 

Zagloba  withdrew  his  foot  quickly  into  the  carriage. 

"Drive  on!"  he  shouted.  "There  is  nothing  here  for  us." 

And  he  proceeded,  trembling  with  rage. 

"Great  God!"  he  cried,  "inscrutable  are  thy  decrees  and 
if  thou  dost  not  strike  this  traitor  with  thy  lightnings  it  is 
because  thou  hast  some  design  which  human  reason  is  not 
permitted  to  fathom,  though  humanly  speaking,  it  would  be 
well  to  chastise  such  a  bull-driver.  But  it  is  evident  that 
evil  is  at  work  in  this  most  enlightened  Commonwealth  if 
such  men  without  honor  or  conscience  and  venal  betrayers 
of  their  country  are  not  only  unpunished,  but  ride  in  power 
and  safety,  nay,  more,  they  also  exercise  civil  functions. 
Surely  we  must  end  in  ruin,  for  in  what  other  state  or  country 
could  such  things  happen?  John  Casimir  was  a  good  king, 
but  he  pardoned  too  freely  and  accustomed  the  most  iniqui- 
tous to  trust  to  impunity  and  safety.  Still,  that  was  not  en- 
tirely his  fault.  It  is  evident  that  throughout  the  nation 
the  public  conscience  and  the  sense  of  civic  virtue  have 
utterly  perished.  Phew!  phew!  he  a  deputy!  The  idea  of 
placing  in  his  hands  the  care  and  safety  of  the  country!  those 
very  hands  that  are  destroying  it  and  fastening  Swedish 


20  PAX  MICHAEL. 

bonds  upon  it!  We  shall  be  lost:  it  cannot  be  otherwise! 
And  then  to  make  a  king  of  him,  the — But  there!  it  is  evi- 
dent that  with  such  people  (everything  is  possible.  He  a 
deputy!  Good  God!  But  the  law  distinctly  declares  that 
a  man  who  is  filling  an  office  in  an  alien  country  cannot 
be  a  deputy,  and  he  is  a  governor-general  under  his  scabby 
uncle  the  Prussian  prince.  Ah,  ha!  wait,  I  have  thee!  What 
are  the  verifications  at  the  Diet  for?  If  1  do  not  go  to  the 
chamber  and  raise  this  question,  though  I  am  only  an  ar- 
biter, may  I  this  moment  be  turned  into  a  fat  sheep  and  my 
coachman  into  a  butcher!  1  will  find  among  the  deputies 
some  to  support  me.  I  know  not,  venal  traitor,  whether  1 
can  succeed  in  balking  such  a  potentate  and  excluding  thee, 
but  be  sure  that  what  I  do  will  not  aid  thy  election.  And 
Michael,  poor  fellow,  must  wait  for  me  since  this  is  a  matter 
of  public  urgency." 

Thus  meditated  Zagloba,  promising  himself  carefully  to 
see  to  that  matter  of  exclusion  and  privately  win  over  de- 
puties; for  this  reason  he  made  greater  haste  to  Warsaw  from 
Minsk,  dreading  to  arrive  late  at  the  opening  of  the  Con- 
vocation. 

But  he  arrived  in  time.  The  concourse  of  deputies  and 
others  was  so  great  that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  find 
accommodation  in  Warsaw  itself,  or  in  Praga,  or  even  in  the 
suburbs;  it  was  also  difficult  to  find  a  lodging  in  a  private 
house,  for  three  or  four  persons  were  sleeping  in  a  single 
room.  Zagloba  spent  the  first  night  in  a  shop  at  Fukiera  and 
with  reasonable  comfort;  but  in  the  morning  when  he  en- 
tered his  carriage  he  did  not  well  know  what  to  do. 

"God!  God!"  he  cried  bitterly,  looking  back  on  the 
suburbs  of  Cracow  as  he  passed,  "here  are  the  Bernard ines 
and  there  the  ruins  of  the  Kazanovski  Palace!  Ungrateful 
city!  I  bled  and  toiled  to  wrest  it  from  the  foe,  and  now  it 
refuses  me  a  place  to  lay  my  grey  head." 

But  it  was  not  that  the  city  grudged  a  resting-place  for 
the  grey  head;  it  simply  hadn't  one  left.  But  a  lucky  star 
was  shining  for  him,  for  scarcely  had  he  reached  the  palace 
of  Konyetspolski  when  a  voice  beside  the  carriage  cried  to  his 
driver: 

"Halt!" 

The  man  pulled  up  and  a  stranger  approached  the  car- 
riage with  radiant  face  arid  exehimod: 

"Pan  Zagloba,  does  not  your  lordship  know  me?" 


PAN  MICHAEL.  21 

Pan  Zagloba  saw  before  him  a  man  of  rather  more  than 
thirty  years,  wearing  a  plumed  leopard-skin  cap — an  unmis- 
takable sign  of  military  service, — a  poppy-colored  tunic,  and 
a  dark  red  kontush  held  by  a  gold  embroidered  belt.  The 
stranger's  face  was  unusually  handsome:  he  had  a  delicate 
complexion  though  somewhat  tanned  by  the  wind  of  the 
steppes;  his  blue  eyes  were  pensive  and  melancholy;  his  fea- 
tures were  unusually  beautiful  and  almost  too  delicate  for 
a  man.  Notwithstanding  his  Polish  dress  he  wore  his  hair 
long  and  his  beard  with  a  foreign  cut.  Halting  beside  the 
carriage  he  extended  his  arms,  and  though  Zagloba  could 
not  at  first  remember  him,  he  leaned  over  and  embraced  him. 

They  pressed  each  other  cordially  and  held  one  another 
at  arm's  length  to  take  a  better  look. 

At  last  Zagloba  said,  "Pardon  me,  your  lordship,  bufc  I 
cannot  yet  recollect/' 

"Hassling-Ketling!" 

"Good  Lord!  The  face  seemed  familiar  to  me  but  the 
dress  has  entirely  altered  you,  for  of  old  I  only  saw  you  in 
cavalry  uniform.  Now  you  wear  the  Polish  dress?" 

"Yes;  for  I  have  adopted  this  Commonwealth  as  my  mother 
for  she  received  me  when  I  was  a  wanderer  almost  in  child- 
hood and  I  do  not  want  a  mother  of  my  own.  You  are  not 
aware  that  I  was  nationalized  after  the  war." 

"You  give  me  good  news!    So  you  have  been  fortunate!" 

"Both  in  this  and  otherwise,  for  in  Courland  on  the 
Jmudj  frontier  I  found  a  man  of  my  own  name  who  adopted 
me,  gave  me  his  coat  of  arms,  and  bestowed  a  fortune  upon 
me.  He  lives  at  Svyenta  in  Courland;  but  he  owns  an  estate 
on  this  side  of  the  border  which  he  has  given  to  me." 

"God  bless  you!     Then  you  have  given  up  war?" 

"Only  let  the  opportunity  come  and  I  shall  be  found  in 
my  place.  With  that  anticipation  I  have  leased  my  land  and 
am  waiting  here  for  orders." 

"That  is  the  chivalrous  spirit  I  love.  In  my  youth  I  was 
like  that  and  there  is  vigor  yet  in  my  bones.  What  are  you 
doing  now  in  Warsaw  ?" 

"I  am  a  deputy  to  the  Diet  of  Convocation." 

"God's  wounds!  But  you  are  already  a  Pole  to  the  back- 
bone!" 

The  young  knight  smiled. 

"In  my  soul,  which  is  better." 

"Are  you 


22 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


aiiswered  Ketling. 

"That  is  all  that  is  wanting.  But  I  think — but  stay!  Have 
you  got  over  the  old  feeling  for  Panna  Billevich?" 

"Since  you  know  what  I  thought  was  my  own  secret  be 
sure  that  no  other  has  superseded  it." 

"Oh,  don't  think  of  her!  She  will  soon  present  a  young 
Kmitsits  to  the  world.  Never  mind!  What  sense  is  there 
in  sighing  wiien  another  is  living  with  her  happily?  Truly 
that  is  absurd." 

Ketling  raised  his  mournful  eyes: 

"I  said  only  that  no  new  feeling«has  come." 

"It  will  come,  never  fear,  we'll  have  you  married  yet.  I 
konw  from  my  own  experience  too  much  constancy  brings 
only  suffering.  In  my  day  I  was  as  faithful  as  Troilus  and 
lost  no  end  of  pleasure  and  a  great  many  chances;  and  how 
I  suffered!" 

"God  grant  everyone  the  preservation  of  such,  a  jovial 
mood  as  your  lordship's!" 

"Because  I  never  lived  to  excess  and  therefore  there  are 
no  aches  in  my  bones.  Where  are  you  staying?  Have  you 
found  lodgings?" 

"I  have  a  comfortable  cottage  at  Mokotov  which  I  built 
after  the  war." 

"That  is  lucky;  but  I  have  been  searching  the  whole  city 
since  yesterday." 

"For  God's  sake,  my  benefactor,  I  hope  you  will  not  re- 
fuse to  stay  with  me.  There  is  plenty  of  room;  besides  the 
house  there  are  offices  and  a  commodious  stable.  There  is 
room  for  your  servants  and  horses." 

"This  has  fallen  from  Heaven,  as  God  is  dear  to  me." 

Ketling  took  his  seat  in  the  carriage  and  they  drove  on. 

On  the  way  Zagloba  told  him  about  Pan  Michael's  mis- 
fortune and  he  wrung  his  hands,  for  it  was  the  first  he  had 
heard  of  it. 

"The  blow  is  all  the  harder  for  me,"  he  said  at  last;  "per- 
haps your  lordship  does  not  know  what  deep  friendship  has 
grown  up  between  us  recently.  Together  we  went  through 
all  the  last  wars  with  Prussia,  besieging  the  fortresses  with 
Swedish  garrisons.  We  went  in  company  to  the  Ukraine, 
and  against  Pan  Lubomirski,  and  again  to  the  Ukraine  after 
the  death  of  the  Voyevoda  of  Russia  under  the  Crown  Mar- 
shal Sobieski.  The  same  saddle  served  as  a  pillow  and  we 
ate  from  the  same  dish;  we  were  called  Castor  and  Pollux. 


PAN   M1CUAKL.  23 

And  only  when  he  came  to  Lithuania  for  Panna  Borzobo- 
hata  were  we  separated.  Who  would  have  thought  that  his 
fondest  hopes  were  to  disappear  like  an  arrow  in  the  air?'7 

"There  is  nothing  sure  in  this  vale  of  tears,"  said  Zagloba. 

"Except  true  friendship !  ...  We  must  confer  together 
and  find  out  where  he  now  is.  We  may  learn  something 
from  the  marshal  of  the  kingdom  who  loves  Michael  as  the 
apple  of  his  eye.  If  he  cannot  tell  us  anything  there  are 
deputies  here  from  every  direction.  It  cannot  be  that  no 
one  has  heard  of  such  a  knight.  I  will  assist  you  to  the  ut- 
most of  my  power  more  willingly  even  than  if  it  was  my  own 
affair." 

Thus  conversing  they  at  last  arrived  at  Ketling's  'cottage' 
which  proved  to  be  a  mansion.  The  interior  arrangements 
were  very  extensive  and  it  was  full  of  costly  furniture  either 
purchased  or  obtained  in  campaigning.  The  collection  of 
weapons  was  especially  noteworthy.  Zagloba  was  charmed 
with  everything  he  saw  and  exclaimed: 

"Why,  you  could  find  quarters  here  for  a  score  of  men. 
I  was  very  fortunate  to  meet  you.  I  might  have  shared 
rooms  with  Pan  Anton  Khrapovitski  who  is  an  old  acquaint- 
ance. The  Patsovs  also  invited  me, — they  are  seeking  par- 
tisans against  the  Radzivills, — but  I  much  prefer  being  with 
you/7 

"I  have  heard  from  the  Lithuanian  deputies/  'said  Ketling, 
"that  now  that  it  is  Lithuania's  turn  they  are  extremely 
anxious  to  select  Pan  Khrapovitski  as  Marshal  of  the  Diet.r 

"And  justly.  He  is  a  true  and  worthy  man,  but  somewhat 
easy-going.  To  his  mind  nothing  is  so  precious  as  harmony: 
he  is  ever  trying  to  reconcile  some  couple  or  other  and  that 
is  futile.  But  tell  me  plainly,  what  is  Boguslav  Eadzivill  to 
you?" 

"Since  the  time  when  Pan  Audrey's  Tartars  took  me  pris- 
oner at  Warsaw  he  has  been  nothing.  I  cast  off  that  service 
and  never  went  back  to  it;  for,  though  a  great  lord,  he  is 
a  malicious  and  bad  man.  I  saw  enough  of  him  in  Taurogi 
when  he  was  plotting  against  that  being  who  is  superior  to 
this  earth." 

"How,  superior?  Man,  what  are  you  talking  about?  She 
is  formed  of  clay  and  may  be  broken  like  any  other  vessel 
of  olay.  But  that  is  of  no  consequence." 

At  this  point  Zagloba  grew  red  with  anger  and  his  eves 
seemed  starting  from  their  sockets. 


24  PAX  MICHAEL. 

"Just  imagine  it,  that  villian  is  a  deputy!" 

"Who?"  asked  Ketling  in  amazement,  for  his  thoughts 
were  still  running  on  Olenka. 

"Boguslav  Radzivill!  But  the  verifications,  what  are  they 
for?  Listen:  you  are  a  deputy  1  will  §hout  to  you  in  sup- 
port from  the  gallery;  fear  not.  The  right  is  with  us  and 
if  they  attempt  to  trample  upon  it  a  tumult  may  be  started 
among  the  spectators  that  will  not  be  stayed  without  blood- 
shed." 

"Do  not  do  that  your  lordship,  for  the  love  of  God!  I 
will  raise  the  question,  for  it  is  proper  to  do  so;  but  God 
forbid  that  we  should  disturb  the  Diet!" 

"I  will  go  to  Khrapovitski  though  he  is  as  lukewarm  water; 
but  that  cannot  be  helped,  for  much  depends  on  him  as  the 
future  Marshal.  I  will  rouse  the  Patsovs.  I  will  publicly 
proclaim  all  Boguslav's  intrigues  at  least.  Moreover  on  the 
road  I  heard  that  the  scoundrel  is  thinking  of  seeking  the 
crown  for  himself." 

"A  nation  would  be  in  its  last  decline  and  unworthy  to 
exist  if  such  a  man  could  gain  the  crown,"  said  Ketling. 
"But  rest  now  and  in  a  day  or  two  we  will  go  to  the  Crown 
Marshal  and  make  inquiries  about  our  friend." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Some  days  afterwards  came  the  opening  of  the  Diet  to 
which,  as  Ketling  had  foreseen,  Pan  Khrapovitski  was  called, 
he  was  chamberlain  of  Smolensk  and  subsequently  Voyevoda 
of  Vitebsk.  Since  the  only  matters  were  to  fix  the  date  of 
the  election  and  to  appoint  the  supreme  Chapter,  and  as  such 
affairs  afforded  no  scope  for  the  intrigues  of  either  party,  the 
convocation  worked  quietly  enough.  Only  the  question  of 
the  verification  of  the  members  of  the  Diet  disturbed  it  a 
little  just  at  first.  When  the  deputy  Ketling  called  into  ques- 
tion the  election  of  the  secretary  of  Belsk  and  of  his  colleague 
Prince  Boguslav  Radzivill,  a  deep  voice  in  the  audience  called 
out  "Traitor!  foreign  tool!"  Other  voices  followed  suit  and 
some  deputies  joined  in  and  unexpectedly  the  Diet  was  di- 
vided into  two  parties, — one  attempting  to  exclude  the  depu- 
ties of  Belsk  and  the  other  to  confirm  their  election.  Finally 
a  committee  was  appointed  to  settle  the  question  and  their 
election  was  recognized.  Nevertheless  it  was  a  painful  blow 
to  Prince  Boguslav.  The  mere  fact  that  the  Diet  was  dis- 
cussing the  question  whether  the  Prince  was  qualified  to  sit 
in  the  Diet  and  that  all  his  treason  and  falseness  at  the  time 
of  the  Swedish  invasion  were  dragged  into  public,  covered 
him  with  fresh  shame  in  the  eyes  of  the  Commonwealth  and 
undermined  all  his  ambitious  schemes  from  the  foundation. 

He  had  calculated  that  when  the  partisans  of  Conde, 
Neuburgh,  and  Lorraine  without  mentioning  lesser  candi- 
dates, had  mutually  injured  each  other  the  selection  might 
easily  fall  on  a  man  of  the  native  country. 

Conceit  and  his  flatterers  told  him  that  if  that  should  hap- 
pen the  native  could  only  be  a  man  of  the  greatest  genius, 
power,  and  fame — himself. 

Keeping  his  plans  secret  till  the  time  was  ripe,  the  prince 
had  been  spreading  his  nets  over  Lithuania  first,  and  was  now 
about  to  extend  them  to  Warsaw,  when  suddenly  they  were 
torn  at  the  very  beginning  and  such  a  big  hole  was  made  in 
them  that  all  the  fish  might  easily  escape.  He  ground  his 


26  PAN   MICHAEL. 

teeth  during  the  whole  time  the  investigation  was  being  made 
and  since  he  could  not  visit  his  revenge  on  the  head  of  Ket- 
ling,  as  the  latter  was  a  deputy,  he  offered  his  followers  a 
reward  if  they  would  discover  the  spectator  who  had  shouted 
"Traitor,  foreign  tool!"  at  the  conclusion  of  Ketling's  pro- 
•posal. 

Zagloba's  name  was  too  well  known  for  him  to  remain  long 
hidden;  besides  he  did  not  make  any  attempt  at  concealment. 
The  prince  raised  a  great  storm  but  was  greatly  discomfited 
at  learning  that  he  was  opposed  by  so  popular  a  man  and  one 
whom  it  would  be  dangerous  to  attack. 

Zagloba  also  was  aware  of  his  own  power,  for  when  threats 
were  in  the  air  he  once  at  a  great  meeting  of  the  nobles  said: 

"I  know  not  whether  it  would  be  dangerous  for  the  man 
who  should  cause  a  hair  of  my  head  to  fall.  The  election  is 
not  far  off'  and  where  a  hundred  thousand  brotherly  sabres 
are  gathered  together  there  may  easily  be  hewing  and 
hacking." 

These  words  reached  the  ears  of  the  prince  who  only  bit 
his  lips  and  smiled  sarcastically,  but  secretly  he  knew  that  the 
old  man  was  right. 

The  next  day  he  altered  his  behaviour  towards  the  old 
knight  for  when  someone  was  speaking  of  Zagloba  at  a  feast 
given  by  the  Prince  Chamberlain,  Boguslav  remarked:" 

"I  hear  that  that  noble  is  bitterly  opposed  to  me;  but  I  have 
such  a  regard  for  noble  natures  that  I  shall  always  love  him, 
even  though  he  does  not  cease  to  injure  me  in  the  future." 

And  the  prince  repeated  the  same  words  a  week  later  to  Pan 
Zagloba  in  person,  when  they  met  at  the  house  of  the  Grand 
Hetman  Sobieski. 

Though  Zagloba  preserved  a  tranquil  and  courageous  coun- 
tenance the  sight  of  the  prince  made  his  heart  beat  a  little 
faster,  for  Boguslav  had  a  long  reach  and  his  violence  made 
him  an  object  of  dread  to  everybody.  However  the  prince 
called  across  the  table: — 

"Noble  Zagloba,  it  is  reported  to  me  that  although  you  are 
not  a  deputy  you  wished  to  drive  me,  an  innocent  man,  out  of 
the  Diet;  but  like  a  Christian  I  forgive  you,  and  should  you 
ever  want  advancement  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  serve  you." 

"I  only  stood  by  the  Constitution,"  replied  Zagloba,  "as  it 
is  the  duty  of  a  noble  to  do;  as  for  aid  at  my  age  God's  is  the 
aid  that  I  am  most  likely  to  need,  for  I  am  almost  ninety." 

"A  beautiful  age  if  it  is  as  full  of  virtues  as  years  and  that  I 
have  not  the  slightest  inclination  to  doubt." 


MICHAEL.  27 

"I  served  my  king  and  country  without  going  after  strange 
gods." 

The  prince  slightly  frowned. 

"You  served  against  me  also  as  I  know.  But  let  there  be 
peace  between  us.  All  is  forgoten  and  above  all  that  you 
aided  the  private  enmity  of  another  against  me.  I  have  still 
an  account  to  settle  with  that  foe,  but  to  your  lordship  I  ex- 
tend my  hand  and  proffer  my  friendship/'5 

"I  am  only  a  servant;  the  friendship  is  too  exalted  for  me. 
I  should  have  to  stand  on  tiptoe,  or  jump  up  to  reach  it;  and 
that  is  troublesome  in  old  age.  If  your  highness  is  speaking 
of  an  account  between  yourself  and  Pan  Kmitsits,  my  friend, 
I  would  far  rather  have  nothing  to  do  with  that  arithmetic." 

"Why  so,  I  pray?"  asked  the  prince. 

"Because  there  are  four  fundamental  rules  in  arithmetic. 
Although  Pan  Kmitsits  has  a  considerable  fortune  it  is  a 
midge  in  comparison  with  your  princely  wealth,  therefore 
Pan  Kmitsits  will  not  consent  to  divide  with  you.  He  is 
engaged  in  multiplication  on  his  own  account  and  will  allow 
no  man  to  subtract  aught  from  him;  I  doubt  if  your  highness 
would  be  anxious  to  accept  what  he  would  give  you." 

Although  Boguslav  was  skillful  at  word-fencing,  yet, 
whether  confounded  by  the  argument  or  the  insolence  of 
Zagloba,  he  seemed  to  forget  that  he  had  a  tongue  in  his  head. 
Those  present  shook  their  sides  with  laughter.  Pan  Sobieski 
laughed  with  all  his  heart  and  said: — 

"He  is  an  old  war-horse  of  Zbaraj.  He  knows  how  to 
wield  a  sabre  and  is  also  no  uncommon  player  with  the  tongue. 
Best  leave  him  alone!" 

Boguslav,  seeing  that  he  had  come  across  an  irreconcilable, 
made  no  further  efforts  to  win  Zagloba  over;  but,  beginning 
to  talk  with  another  guest,  he  cast  occasional  malignant 
glances  across  the  table  in  the  direction  of  the  old  knight. 

But  Sobieski  was  delighted  and  proceeded: 

"You  are  a  master,  my  lord,  a  real  master.  Have  you  ever 
met  with  your  equal  in  the  Commonwealth?" 

"At  the  sabre,"  answered  the  gratified  Zagloba,  "Michael 
is  my  match,  and  Andrey  also  gives  fair  evidence  of  my  train- 
ing." 

He  gazed  at  Bogu?lav;  but  the  prince  pretended  not  to  hear 
him  and  went  on  talkinsr  diligently  to  his  neighbour. 

"True,"  said  the  Hetman,  "I  have  seen  Pan  Michael  at 
work  on  more  than  one  occasion  and  would  warrant  him  were 


28  PAX   MICHAEL. 

even  the  fate  of  the  whole  of  Christendom  at  stake.  What  a 
pity  it  is  that  such  a  soldier  has  been  struck  as  it  were  by  a 
thunderbolt," 

"What  has  happened  to  him?"  asked  Sarbyevski,  the  sword- 
bearer  of  Chekhanovyetski. 

"The  maiden  he  loved  has  died  at  Chenstohovo,"  Zagloba 
replied,  "and  the  worst  of  it  is  that  I  cannot  get  any  tidings 
of  his  whereabouts." 

"By  God!  I  saw  him/7  cried  Pan  Varshytski,  the  Castellan 
of  Cracow.  "As  I  came  to  Warsaw  I  met  him  on  the  road 
coming  hither  also;  and  he  told  me  that  being  disgusted  with 
the  world  and  its  vanities  he  was  going  to  Mons  Regius  to 
spend  the  rest  of  his  burdensome  life  in  prayer  and  medi- 
tation." 

Zagloba  clutched  at  his  few  remaining  locks. 

"He  has  become  a  Camaldoli  monk  as  I  love  God !"  he  cried 
in  the  deepest  despair. 

Indeed  the  Castellan's  words  had  greatly  impressed  every- 
body. Pan  Sobieski,  who  loved  soldiers,  and  well  knew  what 
great  need  the  country  had  of  them,  was  deeply  concerned 
and  said  after  a  pause: — 

"It  is  not  good  to  withstand  the  will  of  men  and  the  glory 
of  God,  but  it  is  a  misfortune  to  lose  him  and,  gentlemen,  it 
would  be  difficult  for  me  to  hide  from  you  that  I  am  grieved. 
A  soldier  of  Prince  Yeremy's  school  he  was  excellent  against 
any  enemy,  but  against  the  wild  hordes  he  was  unequalled. 
There  are  but  few  of  his  kind  in  the  Steppes,  such  as  Pan 
Pivo  among  the  Cossacks,  and  Pan  Ruschyts  in  the  cavalry; 
but  even  these  are  inferior  to  Pan  Michael." 

"It  is  fortunate  that  the  times  are  somewhat  more  tran- 
quil," said  the  sword-bearer  of  Chekhanovyetski,  "and  that 
Paganism  is  faithfully  observing  the  treaty  of  Podhaytsa  ex- 
torted by  my  master's  invincible  sword." 

Here  the  sword-bearer  bowed  to  Sobieski  who  was  gratified 
at  such  praise  in  public  and  replied: 

"That  was  due  first  to  the  favor  of  God  who  enabled  me  to 
make  a  stand  at  the  frontier  of  this  Commonwealth  and  do 
some  execution  among  the  enemy;  and  secondly,  to  the  valor 
of  good  soldiers  who  are  ready  to  undertake  anything.  I 
know  that  the  Khan  personally  would  be  glad  to  maintain 
the  treaty,  but  even  in  the  Crimea  he  has  turbulent  subjects 
and  the  Russe  horde  will  not  obey  him  at  all.  I  have  just 
received  tidings  that  on  the  Moldavian  border  cloudi  are 


PAN  MICHAEL.  29 

gathering  and  raids  are  to  be  looked  for:  I  have  given  orders 
for  the  tracks  to  be  carefully  watched,  but  I  have  not  enough 
soldiers.  When  I  send  them  to  one  point  another  is  left  un- 
guarded. I  need  men  who  have  had  special  training  and  are 
acquainted  with  the  ways  of  the  riders;  and  that  is  why  I  am 
so  sorry  about  Pan  Michael." 

Zagloba  raised  his  bowed  head  from  his  hands  and  cried 
"But  he  shall  not  remain  a  Camaldolian  even  if  I  have  to  take 
Mons  Regius  by  assault  to  bring  him  away  by  force.  For 
God's  sake!  I  will  go  straight  to  him  to-morrow  and  perhaps 
I  may  induce  him  to  comply;  if  not  I  will  go  to  the  Primate, 
to  the  General  of  the  Order  I  will  go  even  to  Rome  if  I  must. 
I  have  no  wish  to  take  away  aught  from  the  glory  of  the  Lord, 
but  what  sort  of  a  monk  would  he  be  without  a  beard? 
There  is  as  much  hair  on  his  face  as  on  my  fist!  As  I  love 
God,  he  will  never  be  able  to  sing  Mass;  or  if  he  does  the  rats 
will  scurry  out  of  the  cloisters  thinking  it  the  amorous  cry 
of  a  tom-cat.  Pardon  me,  gentlemen,  for  saying  what  sorrow 
dictates.  I  love  that  man  better  than  I  ever  should  a  son  of 
my  own  if  I  had  one.  God  be  with  him!  God  be  with  him! 
Were  he  even  a  Bernardine! — but  a  Camaldolian!  !  As  I  am 
a  living  man  it  shall  not  be!  I  will  go  direct  to  the  Primate 
to-morrow  for  a  letter  to  the  General  of  the  Order." 

"He  cannot  have  taken  the  vows  yet,"  said  the  Marshal, 
"but  let  not  your  lordship  be  too  insistent,  lest  he  become 
stubborn;  and  there  is  another  consideration,  has  not  the  will 
of  God  declared  itself  in  his  intention?" 

"The  will  of  God!  The  will  of  God  does  not  come  on  a 
sudden;  as  the  old  proverb  says,  'What  is  sudden  is  of  the 
Devil'.  It  it  were  the  will  of  God  I  should  have  remarked  it 
in  him  long  ago,  and  he  was  never  a  priest  but  a  dragoon. 
If  he  had  made  such  a  resolve  in  full  possession  of  his  reason, 
calmly  and  thoughtfully,  I  should  have  nothing  to  say;  but 
the  will  of  God  does  not  strike  a  desperate  man  as  a  falcon 
strikes  a  duck.  I  will  put  no  pressure  upon  him.  Before 
going  I  will  consider  my  words  so  that  I  may  not  increase  his 
disgust  with  life;  but  my  hope  is  in  God.  This  little  soldier 
has  always  put  more  trust  in  my  wit  than  in  his  own  and  I 
have  no  doubt  that  he  will  do  so  in  this  case  also,  unless  he 
has  greatly  altered." 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  next  day  Zagloba,  having  concerted  his  plans  with 
Hassling,  and  being  armed  with  a  letter  from  the  Primate, 
rang  the  bell  at  the  gate  of  the  monastery  on  Mons  Regius. 
His  heart  was  beating  violently  at  the  thought,  'How  will 
Michael  receive  me?'  and  though  he  had  prepared  in  advance 
what  to  say  he  confessed  to  himself  that  much  depended  on 
his  reception.  With  this  conviction  he  pulled  the  bell  a  sec- 
ond time  and  when  the  key  rattled  in  the  lock  and  the  door 
slightly  opened  he  thrust  himself  into  the  aperture  with  some 
violence  and  said  to  the  confused  young  monk: 

"I  know  that  special  pel-mission  is  required  to  gain  admis- 
sion here,  buf  I  have  a  letter  from  the  Archbishop  which  you, 
dear  frater,  will  kindly  give  to  the  reverend  Prior." 

"It  shall  be  done  according  to  your  lordship's  desire,"  said 
the  porter,  bowing  at  the  sight  of  the  Primate's  seal. 

Then  he  pulled  a  cord  hanging  from  the  tongue  of  a  bell 
and  clanged  it  twice  to  call  another,  for  he  had  no  right  to 
leave  the  door.  A  second  monk  answered  the  summons  and, 
taking  the  letter,  departed  in  silence.  Pan  Zagloba  placed  on 
a  bench  a  package  he  had  brought  with  him,  and  sitting  down 
beside  it,  began  to  puff  violently. 

"Frater,"  said  he  at  last,  how  long  have  }rou  been  in  the 
monastery  ?" 

"Five  years,"  the  porter  replied. 

"Is  it  possible?  so  young,  and  five  years  already!  Therefore 
it  is  too  late  to  leave,  even  if  you  wished  to  do  so.  Sometimes 
you  must  pine  for  the  world;  for  one  man  the  world  smells  of 
war,  for  another  of  feasting,  for  a  third  of  women." 

"Avaunt!"  cried  tne  monk,  crossing  himself  with  devotion. 

"How  is  that?  Have  you  never  been  seized  with  the  temp- 
tation to  leave  the  cloister?"  repeated  Zagloba. 

The  monk  looked  distrustfully  at  the  envoy  of  the  Arch- 
bishop who  was  talking  so  strangely,  and  answered,  "When 
this  door  once  closes  on  any  man  he  never  goes  out  again." 

(30) 


PAN   MICHAEL.  3X 

"We'll  see  to  tha/t!  How  is  Pan  Volodiyovski ?  Is  he  alive? 
Is  he  well  ?" 

"There  is  no  one  here  of  that  name." 

"Frater  Michael?"  said  Zagloba  at  a  venture.  A  former 
colonel  of  dragoons  who  lately  came  here." 

"We  call  him  Brother  Yerzy;  but  he  has  not  yet  taken  the 
vows,  and  cannot  do  so  till  the  end  of  the  term." 

"And  he  certainly  will  not  take  them;  for,  brother,  you" 
would  never  believe  what  a  man  he  is  after  women!  You 
could  not  find  a  man  more  destructive  to  female  virtue  among 
the  whole  clerg — I  mean  cavalry." 

"This  is  not  proper  for  me  to  listen  to,"  said  the  monk  in 
growing  confusion  and  surprise. 

"Listen,  f rater!  I  know  not  where  visitors  are  received, 
but  if  it  is  here  I  advise  you  to  withdraw  a  little  when  Brother 
Yerzy  arrives, — as  far  off  as  that  grille  for  instance — for  our 
conversation  will  deal  with  exceedingly  worldly  matters." 

"I  would  rather  go  away  at  once,"  said  the  monk. 

At  this  moment  Pan  Michael,  or  rather  Brother  Yerzy,  ap- 
peared, but  he  was  so  greatly  changed  that  Zagloba  did  not 
recognize  Pan  Michael  in  the  approaching  figure.  In  the  first 
place  he  looked  taller  in  his  long  white  habit  than  in  his 
dragoon  jacket;  then  his  moustache,  usually  curled  up  to  his 
eyes,  was  now  drooping,  and  he  was  growing  a  beard  that  now 
formed  little  yellow  locks  no  longer  than  half  a  finger;  and 
finally  he  had  become  very  spare  and  thin  and  his  eyes  had 
lost  all  their  old  fire.  He  approached  slowly,  with  his  hands 
hidden  in  his  breast  beneath  his  habit,  and  his  head  was 
drooping. 

Zagloba,  not  recognizing  him,  thought  it  might  perhaps  be 
the  Prior  himself  approaching,  and  therefore  rose  from  the 
bench  and  was  beginning, — "Laudetur" — when  suddenly 
looking  more  closely  he  opened  his  arms  and  cried,  "Pan 
Michael!  Pan  Michael!" 

Frater  Yerzy  allowed  himself  to  be  embraced  and  something 
that  sounded  like  a  sob  heaved  his  breast,  but  nis  eyes  re- 
mained dry.  Zagloba  held  him  in  a  long  embrace  and  at  last 
said: 

"You  have  not  been  alone  in  bewailing  your  misfortune.  I 
wept;  Yan,  Andrey,  and  their  families  also  wept.  It  is  God's 
will!  Resign  yourself  to  it  Michael.  Mav  the  Father  of  Mercy 
comfort  and  reward  you!  .  .  .  You  have  done  well  to  im- 
mure yourself  hero  for  a  time.  In  times  of  trouble  there  is 


32  PAN  MICHAEL. 

nothing  better  than  prayer  and  pious  meditation.  Come,  let 
me  again  embrace  you!  I  can  scarcely  see  you  through  my 
tears." 

And  Zagloba  shed  genuine  tears  in  his  emotion  at  seeing 
Pan  Michael  in  this  condition. 

At  last  he  said,  "Forgive  me  for  breaking  in  on  your  medi- 
tation, but  I  could  not  do  otherwise,  as  you  will  acknowledge 
when  you  hear  my  reasons.  Ah!  Michael,  you  and  I  have 
gone  through  a  world  of  good  and  evil.  Have  you  found 
solace  behind  these  bars?" 

"I  have,"  replied  Pan  Michael — "in  the  words  that  I  hear 
daily  in  this  retreat,  and  which  I  repeat  and  desire  to  repeat 
till  I  die,  Memento  mori — 'remember  death/  In  death  there 
is  solace  for  me." 

"H'm!  death  is  to  be  met  with  more  readily  on  the  battle- 
field than  in  the  cloister  where  life  passes  as  though  one  were 
slowly  unwinding  thread  from  a  ball." 

"There  is  no  life  here  for  there  are  no  mundane  affairs,  and 
even  before  the  soul  leaves  the  body  it  lives,  so  to  speak,  in 
another  world." 

"If  that  be  true  I  will  not  tell  you  that  the  Byalogrod  tribes 
axe  gathering  in  great  force  against  the  Commonwealth,  for 
that  will  be  of  no  interest  to  you!" 

Pan  Michael's  lips  suddenly  quivered  and  his  right  hand 
mechanically  moved  to  his.  left  side,  but,  finding  no  sword 
there,  he  put  both  hands  again  under  his  habit,  bowed  his 
head,  and  repeated: 

"Memento  mori." 

"Certainly,  certainly!"  replied  Zagloba,  blinking  his  sound 
eye  with  a  certain  amount  of  impatience.  "Only  yesterday 
Pan  Sobieski,  the  Hetman,  was  saying:  'Only  let  Volodiyovski 
serve  till  this  tempest  is  past  and  then  he  can  go  to  whatever 
monastery  he  likes.  Such  action  would  not  be  displeasing  to 
God;  on  the  contrary,  such  a  monk  would  be  so  much  the 
more  meritorious/  But  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  you 
should  consider  your  own  peace  of  mind  before  the  happiness 
of  the  country,  for  charity  begins  at  home." 

A  long  silence  followed;  only  Pan  Michael's  moustache 
seemed  to  stand  out  somewhat  more  stiffly  above  his  lips  as 
they  worked. 

"You  have  not  taken  the  vows  yet?"  asked  Zagloba  at 
length,  "and  you  can  Ipave  at  any  moment?" 

"I  am  not  yet  a  monk,  for  I  have  been  waiting  for  the 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


33 


grace  of  God,  and  till  my  soul  should  be  purged  of  all  dis- 
tracting earthly  thoughts.  His  grace  is  with  me  now:  peace 
of  mind  is  coming  back  to  me.  I  can  depart,  but  have  no 
desire  to  do  so  since  the  time  is  approaching  when  I  can  make 
my  vows  with  a  clear  conscience  and  a  heart  free  from  all 
earthly  longings." 

"I  have  no  wish  to  divert  you  from  it;  on  the  contrary  I 
applaud  your  resolve,  though  I  remember  that  when  once 
Yan  was  thinking  of  taking  the  cowl  he  deferred  doing  so 
until  the  land  was  relieved  of  hostile  attack.  But  do  as  you 
will.  Indeed  I  will  never  be  the  one  to  deter  you,  for  there 
was  a  time  when  I  myself  felt  a  vocation  for  a  monastic  life. 
Fifty  years  ago  I  entered  on  my  novitiate;  I  am  a  liar  if  I 
did  not.  Well,  God  ordained  otherwise.  Only  I  tell  you  this, 
Michael,  you  must  come  away  with  me  just  for  two  days." 

"Why  must  I  go?    Leave  me  in  peace!" 

Zagloba  raised  the  skirt  of  his  coat  to  his  eyes  and  com- 
menced to  sob.  "I  do  not  crave  succor  for  myself,"  he  cried  in 
broken  accents,  "though  Prince  Boguslav  Radzivill  is  pursu- 
ing me  with  his  vengeance;  he  sets  his  assassins  in  ambush  for 
me  and  there  is  no  one  to  defend  or  protect  me,  a  poor  old 
man.  ...  I  was  thinking  that  you  .  .  .  But  no  mat- 
ter ...  I  will  still  love  you  till  I  die,  even  though  you  are 
unwilling  to  take  any  interest  in  me.  .  .  .  Only  pray  for 
my  soul,  for  I  shall  not  be  able  to  escape  Boguslav's  hands.  .  . 
Let  come  what  will  to  me;  but  another  of  your  friends  who 
shared  his  last  crust  with  you,  is  now  on  his  death-bed  and 
desires  to  see  you  without  fail.  He  is  not  willing  to  die  with- 
out seeing  you;  for  he  wants  to  make  a  confession  on  which 
the  peace  of  his  soul  depends.' 

Pan  Michael  who  had  listened  to  Zagloba's  account  of  his 
danger  with  great  emotion,  now  sprang  forward  and,  grasping 
his  arm,  asked,  "Is  it  Pan  Yan?" 

"No,  not  Yan,  but  Ketling!" 

"For  God's  sake!  what  has  happened  him?" 

"He  was  shot  by  one  of  Prince  Boguslav's  ruffians  while 
defending  me;  I  know  not  if  he  can  live  for  twenty-four  hours. 
It  was  on  your  account  that  we  got  into  this  trouble,  for  we 
only  came  to  Warsaw  to  try  to  find  some  way  of  consoling  you. 
Come,  if  only  for  two  days,  and  soothe  a  dying  man.  You 
can  then  return  .  .  .  you  can  become  a  monk.  I  have 
brought  the  Primate's  orders  to  raise  no  obstacle  in  your  way. 
Only  hasten,  for  every  moment  is  precious." 


MICHAEL. 

"Good  God!"  exclaimed  Pan  Michael;  "what  do  I  hear? 
There  are  no  obstacles,  for  so  far  I  am  here  only  for  medita- 
tion. As  God  lives,  the  prayer  of  a  dying  man  is  sacred!  I 
cannot  refuge  that/' 

"It  would  be  a  mortal  sin!"  cried  Zagloba. 

"True!  It  is  always  that  traitor  Boguslav.  But  may  I 
never  return  here  if  I  do  not  avenge  Ketling!  I  will  find  those 
villains  and  cleave  their  heads  in  two!  Great  God!  sinful 
thoughts  are  already  assailing  me!  Memento  moril  Wait  here 
only  till  I  have  put  on  my  old  clothes,  for  it  is  forbidden  to 
go  outside  in  the  habit." 

"Here  are  some  clothes!"  cried  Zagloba,  springing  to  the 
bundle  lying  on  the  bench  beside  them.  "I  foresaw  and  pre- 
pared everything!  Here  are  boots,  a  rapier,  and  a,  good  over- 
coat." 

"Come  to  the  cell,"  said  the  little  knight  hurriedly. 

They  went  to  the  cell  and  when  they  came  out  by  the  side 
of  Zagloba  walked,  not  a  white  monk,  but  an  officer  with 
yellow  boots  up  to  the  knees,  a  rapier  at  his  side  and  a  white 
scarf  over  his  shoulder.  Zagloba  winked  and  smiled  at  the 
frater  at  the  door,  who  was  evidently  scandalized  as  he  opened 
the  gate  for  the  pair. 

Lower  down  the  hill  not  far  from  the  monastery  Zagloba's 
carriage  was  waiting  in  charge  of  two  attendants.  One  was 
sitting  on  the  seat  holding  the  reins  of  four  richly-harnessed 
horses  over  which  Pan  Michael  rapidly  cast  an  experienced 
eye.  The  other  was  standing  beside  the  carriage  with  a  crust- 
ed, corpulent  bottle  in  one  hand  and  two  glasses  in  the  other. 

"It  is  quite  a  distance  to  Mokotov,"  said  Zagloba,  "and 
sharp  grief  awaits  us  at  Ketling' s  bedside.  .  Take  a  drink, 
Michael,  to  gain  strength  to  stand  it  all,  for  you  are  greatly 
run  down." 

Zagloba  took  the  bottle  from  the  hands  of  the  servant 
and  filled  both  goblets  with  wine  that  was  almost  viscous 
with  age. 

"This  is  generous  liquor,"  said  Zagloba,  setting  the  bottle 
on  the  ground  and  taking  the  goblets.  "To  the  health  of 
Ketling!" 

"To  his  health!"  Pan  Michael  responded.    "Let  us  hasten!" 

They  drained  the  goblets  at  a  draught. 

"Let  us  hasten,"  repeated  Zagloba.  "Pour  out  man,"  he 
added  turning  to  his  attendant.  "The  health  of  Pan  Yan! 
Let  us  make  haste!" 


PAN   M1UHAUL.  35 

Tkey  again  emptied  the  goblets  at  a  draught,  for  there  was 
no  time  to  lose. 

"Let  us  take  our  seats,"  cried  Pan  Michael. 

"But  won't  you  drink  my  health?"  asked  Zagloba  quer- 
ulously. 

"If  you  will  be  quick!" 

And  they  again  drank  in  haste.  Zagloba  emptied  his  gob- 
let with  one  gulp,  though  it  held  half  a  quart,  and  then  said, 
without  even  wiping  his  moustache,  "It  would  be  ungrateful 
of  me  not  to  drink  your  health,  too.  Pour  out,  fellow!" 

"Thanks!"  answered  Frater  Yerzy. 

The  bottom  of  the  bottle  was  reached  and  Zagloba  took  it 
by  the  neck  and  smashed  it  to  pieces,  for  he  could  not  bear 
the  sight  of  empty  vessels.  Then  they  hastily  took  their  seats 
and  drove  on. 

The  noble  liquor  soon  put  warmth  into  their  veins  and 
gladness  into  their  hearts.  Frater  Yerzy's  cheeks  gained  a 
bright  color  and  his  eyes  brightened. 

His  hand  rose  involuntarily  to  his  moustache  and  twisted  it 
upwards  in  sharp  spikes  to  his  eyes.  Meanwhile  he  gazed 
curiously  about  him  as  if  taking  notice  for  the  first  time.  Sud- 
denly Zagloba  slapped  his  knees  and  cried  without  apparent 
reason : 

"Ho!  ho!  I  hope  the  sight  of  you  will  restore  Ketling  to 
health!  Ho!  ho!" 

And  putting  his  arms  around  Pan  Michael's  neck  he  began 
to  embrace  him  with  all  his  might.  The  latter  returned  the 
embrace  with  equal  cordiality. 

They  drove  on  for  some  time  silently  but  happily.  Mean- 
time small  suburban  houses  began  to  dot  both  sides  of  the 
road.  In  front  of  these  there  was  considerable  movement  and 
animation.  In  all  directions  people  were  walking,  mingled 
with  servants  in  various  liveries,  soldiers,  and  richly  robed 
nobles. 

"Crowds  of  the  nobility  have  come  to  the  Diet,"  said  Zag- 
loba; "for  though  not  one  in  a  hundred  is  a  deputy,  they  all 
want  to  be  present  to  hear  and  see.  The  houses  and  inns  are 
so  full  that  it  is  difficult  to  get  a  room,  and  what  a  lot  of  fine 
women  there  are  in  the  streets!  You  couldn't  number  them 
on  the  hairs  in  your  beard.  The  darlings  are  monstrous 
pretty,  too,  so  that  a  man  is  inclined  to  flap  his  wings  and 
crow  like  a  cock.  But  look  there!  look  at  that  brunette  with 
the  haiduk  carrying  the  green  shuba  behind  her;  isn't  she  a 
beauty?  Eh?" 


36  PAN   MICHAEL. 

Here  Zagloha  poked  Pan  Michael  in  the  ribs  with  his  fist 
and  Pan  Michael  looked  and  twirled  his  moustache;  his  eyes 
sparkled,  but  in  a  moment  his  face  fell,  he  bowed  his  head  and 
after  a  moment's  silence,  he  said,  "Memento  moril" 

But  Zagloba  embraced  him  again  and  exclaimed,  Per  amiti- 
tiam  nostram,  "By  our  friendship,  as  you  love  and  honor  me, 
get  married.  There  are  so  many  worthy  women,  get  married!" 
I  Frater  Yerzy  gazed  at  his  friend  in  amazement.  Zagloba 
I  could  not  be  drunk,  however,  because  many  a  time  he  had 
taken  three  times  as  much  wine  without  its  affecting  liim,  so 
that  he  could  only  be  speaking  from  his  affection.  But  all 
thoughts  of  marriage  were  far  from  Pan  Michael  at  that  mo- 
ment, so  that  at  first  his  surprise  was  greater  than  his  in- 
dignation. 

Then  he  gazed  sternly  at  Zagloba  and  asked: 

"Are  you  drunk?" 

"From  the  bottom  of  my  heart  I  repeat,  get  married!" 

Pan  Michael's  eyes  became  still  more  stern  and  he  repeated, 
"Memento  mori" 

But  Zagloba  was  not  one  to  be  easily  abashed. 

"Michael,  if  you  love  me  humor  me  in  this  matter  and  kiss 
a  dog's  nose  with  your  'memento/  I  repeat,  you  can  please 
yourself,  but  this  is  the  way  I  argue:  Let  every  man  serve 
God  in  his  own  vocation,  and  God  created  you  for  the  sword: 
his  will  is  plainly  shown  since  He  has  enabled  you  to  become 
such  an  expert  in  its  use.  If  he  had  intended  you  to  be  a 
priest  he  would  have  endowed  you  with  an  entirely  different 
mind  and  a  stronger  inclination  to  books  and  Latin.  Remem- 
ber also  that  in  Heaven  warrior-saints  enjoy  quite  as  much 
honor  as  friar-saints,  and  that  they  battle  against  the  legions 
of  Hell  and  receive  their  meed  from  God's  own  hand  when 
they  return  with  captured  standards.  .  .  .  You  cannot 
deny  that  this  is  true!" 

"I  do  not  deny  it,  and  I  know  that  you  are  a  tough  ad- 
versary in  a  war  of  argument;  but  neither  can  you  deny  that 
for  sorrow  the  life  of  the  cloister  is  better  than  that  of  the 
world." 

"Better,  bah!  All  the.  more  reason  then  for  avoiding  the 
cloister.  The  man  is  a  fool  who  feeds  instead  of  starving  his 
sorrow  so  that  the  brute  may  die  of  famine  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible." 

Pan  Michael  could  find  no  ready  reply  and  was  therefore 
silent,  but  alter  a  little  he  said  sadly: 


PI IV    MICHAEL.  37 

"Do  not  speak  of  marriage,  for  the  word  only  giv< 
greater  pain.     Desire  is  dead  in  me,  for  tears  have  washed 
it  away  and  love  i^  not  I'or  one  of  my  years.    My  hair  is  begin- 
ning to  grow  white.    Forty-two  years — twenty-five  of  warfare 
— are  no  joke,  no  joke." 

"0  God,  do  not  punish  him  for  blasphemy!  Forty-two 
years!  Pshaw!  I  have  more  than  twice  as  many  on  my  back 
and  yet  I  sometimes  have  to  discipline  myself  to  beat  the  heat 
out  of  my  blood  like  dust  out  of  clothing.  Respect  the  mem- 
ory of  that  sweet  dead  one.  Michael,  you  were  good  enough 
for  her  I  suppose!  Then  how  can  you  be  too  old  or  not  good 
enough  for  any  other?" 

"Leave  me  in  peace!  leave  me  in  peace!"  cried  Pan  Michael 
in  poignant  accents. 

And  tears  began  to  trickle  down  his  cheeks. 

"I  won't  say  another  word,"  said  Zagloba;  "only  give  me 
your  knightly  word  that  you  will  stay  with  us  for  a  month, 
no  matter  what  happens  to  Ketling.  You  must  see  Yan.  .  . 
Afterwards,  if  you  still  desire  to  return  to  the  cloister,  no  one 
will  try  to  prevent  you." 

"I  give  you  my  word,"  said  Pan  Michael. 

And  they  began  to  talk  of  other  matters.  Zagloba  told 
about  the  Diet  and  how  he  had  raised  the  question  of  exclud- 
ing Prince  Boguslav,  and  of  Ketling's  misfortune,.  Never- 
theless occasionally  he  suspended  his  tale  and  fell  into  deep 
thought;  apparently  his  meditations  were  cheerful  ones,  for 
now  and  again  he  would  slap  his  knoes  and  ejaculate: 

"Ho!  ho!" 

"But  as  they  neared  Mokotov  his  face  gave  signs  of  anxiety. 
Suddenly  turning  to  Michael  he  said: 

"Your  word  is  passed,  remember,  that  you  will  remain  with 
us  for  a  month  no  matter  what  happens  to  Ketling." 

"I  passed  my  word  and  I  will  remain,"  answered  Pan 
Michael. 

"Here  is  Ketling's  lodging,"  cried  Zagloba,  "a  respectable 
place." 

Than  he  called  to  the  driver,  "Fire  off  your  whip!  There 
will  be  a  feast  in  this  house  to-day." 

Loud  cracks  of  the  whip  were  heard.  But  the  carriage  had 
scarcely  entered  the  gate  when  a  number  of  Pan  Michael's 
lirothers  in  arms  rushed  out  of  the  ante-room;  among  them 
were  also  old  comrades  of  the  days  of  Khmyelnitski,  and 
young  comrades  of  later  days.  Among  the  latter  were  Pan 


MICHAEL. 

Vasilevski  and  Pan  Novovyeyski,  still  in  early  manhood 
though  they  were  already  seasoned  warriors,  having  run  away 
from  school  when  mere  boys  and  fought  for  some  years  under 
Pan  Michael.  The  latter  had  a  very  strong  affection  for 
them  both. 

Among  the  older  ones  was  Pan  Orlik  of  the  housa  of  Novin, 
with  a  skull  plated  with  gold  where  a.  Swedish  grenade  had 
once  taken  a  piece  out  of  it;  and  Pan  Rushchyts,  a  half -savage 
leader  of  the  steppes,  with  few  equals  in  border-warfare  and 
second  only  in  reputation  to  Pan  Michael  himself;  besides 
several  others.  At  the  sight  of  the  two  in  the  carriage  they  all 
began  to  shout: 

"Thqre  he  is!  there  he  is!  Zagloba  has  won!    There  he  is!" 

And  springing  to  the  side  of  the  carriage  they  seized  Pan 
Michael  in  their  arms  and  carried  him  to  the  hall,  crying: 

"Welcome!  dearest  comrade,  live  for  us!  We  have  you 
now  and  won't  let  you  go  again!  Long  live  Volodyovski,  the 
first  knight  and  ornament  of  the  whole  army!  To  the  steppes 
with  us,  Brother!  To  the  wild  plains!  There  the  winds  will 
blow  your  sorrow  away." 

They  set  him  down  only  in  the  entrance-hall.  He  was 
much  moved  at  his  reception  and  greeted  them  all,  but  imme- 
diately asked: 

"How  is  Ketling?    Is  he  yet  alive?" 

"Alive!  alive!"  'they  replied  in  chorus,  and  the  old  soldiers 
began  to  smile  queerly.  "Go  to  him,  for  he  cannot  keep  his 
bed  much  longer;  he  impatiently  awaits  you." 

"I  see  he  is  not  so  near  death  as  Zagloba  said." 

They  passed  into  a  large  room,  in  the  middle  of  which  was 
a  table  spread  for  a  feast;  in  one  corner  was  a  plank-bed  cov- 
ered with  a  white  horse-robe  on  which  Ketling  was  lying. 

"My  friend!"  cried  Pan  Michael,  hastening  towards  him. 

"Michael!"  cried  Ketling,  springing  up  in  full  health  and 
vigor  and  clasping  the  little  knight  to  his  breast. 

They  embraced  each  other  so  vigorously  that  each  lifted  the 
other  off  his  feet  in  turn. 

"They  ordered  me  to  feign  sickness,"  cried  the  Scotchman, 
"to  pretend  to  be  dead;  but  when  I  saw  you  I  could  not  keep 
it  up.  I  am  as  lively  as  an  eel,  and  nothing  has  happened  to 
me.  But  it  was  a  matter  of  getting  you  out  of  the  cloister. 
.  .  .  Forgive  us,  Michael!  It  was  for  love  of  you  that  we 
contrived  this  trick." 

"To  the  wild  steppes!"  cried  the  officers  again;  and  they 


PAN   MICHAEL.  ^ 

raised  a  terrible  din  by  striking  their  sabres  with  their  horny 
hands. 

But  Pan  Michael  was  absolutely  bewildered.  For  some 
time  he  was  silent  and  then  he  began  to  gaze  at  each  in  turn, 
and  Zagloba  in  particular. 

At  last  he  exclaimed,  "Oh,  traitors!  I  thought  that  Ketling 
was  mortally  wounded/' 

"How  is  this,  Michael?"  cried  Zagloba.  Are  you  provoked 
because  Ketling  is  well?  Are  you  sorry  for  that  and  would 
you  rather  have  him  dead?  Has  your  heart  so  completely 
turned  to  stone  that  you  would  be  glad  to  see  us  all  ghosts, 
including  Ketling,  and  Pan  Orlik,  and  Pan  Rushchyts  and 
these  youngsters, — nay,  even  Pan  Yan,  even  me,  me  that 
love  you  like  a  son?" 

Here  Zagloba  shut  his  eyes  and  exclaimed  in  still  more 
lamentable  tones:  "We  have  nothing  to  live  for,  gentlemen, 
there  is  no  gratitude  left  in  this  world,  callousness  only  re- 
mains/7 

"By  Heaven!  I  do  not  wish  you  ill,  but  you  have  not  re- 
spected my  sorrow,''  cried  Pan  Michael. 

"Have  pity  upon  our  lives!"  repeated  Zagloba. 

"Leave  me  in  peace!" 

He  says  we  show  no  respect  to  his  sorrow;  but  what  floods 
of  tears  we  have  shed  for  him,  gentlemen!  We  have  indeed, 
Michael.  I  call  God  to  witness  that  we  wish  we  might  bear  it 
for  you  as  comrades  should.  But  since  you  have  promised  to 
stay  with  us  for  a  month  love  us  at  least  for  that  month." 

"I  will  love  you  till  death,"  said  Pan  Michael. 

At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  fresh 
arrival.  The  officers,  engaged  with  Pan  Michael,  had  not 
heard  his  approach  and  saw  him  only  when  he  stood  in  the 
doorway.  He  was  a  man  of  great  stature  and  noble  form  and 
bearing.  He  had  the  face  of  a  Roman  Csesar;  it  expressed 
power  mingled  with  true  kingly  kindness  and  courtesy. 
He  contrasted  strongly  with  the  officer?  present:  he  seemed 
to  gain  in  grandeur  before  them,  as  though  the  kingly  eagle 
had  appeared  suddenly  in  a  flock  of  hawks,  falcons,  and 
merlins. 

"The  Grand  Hetman!"  cried  Ketling,  springing  up  as  the 
host  to  welcome  him. 

"Pan  Sobieski!"  others  exclaimed. 

Every  head  bowed  with  deep  respect. 

"All  except  Pan  Michael  were  aware  that  the  Hetman  was 


40  PAN   MICHAEL. 

coming,  for  hd  had  promised  Ketling  to  do  so;  and  yet  his 
arrival  had  produced  such  an  effect  that  no  one  dared  to  be 
the  first  to  speak.  This  was  also  unusual  homage.  But  Sobi-j- 
ski  loved  soldiers  above  all  men,  especially  those  with  whom 
he  had  so  often  broken  and  swept  away  the  Tartar  chamhuls; 
he  regarded  them  as  his  own  children  and  therefore  he  had 
determined  to  greet  Pan  Michael  to  condole  with  him  and 
show  him  such  favor  and  honor  as  to  induce  him  to  remain 
in  the  army. 

After  greeting  Ketling,  therefore  he  at  once  extended  his 
hand  to  the  little  knight  and,  when  the  latter  approached 
and  embraced  his  knees,  Sobieski  laid  his  hand  affectionately 
on  Pan  Michael's  head. 

"Old  soldier,"  he  said,  "the  hand  of  God  has  bowed  thee 
to  the  earth,  but  I  will  raise  and  comfort  thee.  The  Lord  is 
with  thee!  Thou  wilt  stay  with  us  now." 

"I  will  stay,"  said  Pan  Michael  in  a  voice  broken  with  sobs. 

"That  is  well;  give  me  as  many  as  possible  of  such  men  as 
thou.  And  now,  old  comrade,  let  us  recall  the  days  we  spent 
in  the  Russian  steppes  when  we  feasted  in  tents.  I  am  happy 
to  be  among  you  again.  Our  host,  let  us  begin!" 

And  all  cried,  "Vivat  Joannes  dux." 

The  feast  commenced  and  lasted  long. 

The  following  day  the  Hetman  sent  a  very  valuable  cream- 
colored  charger  to  Pan  Michael. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Ketling  and  Pan  Michael  mutually  vowed  to  ride  stirrup 
to  stirrup  again  should  the  opportunity  occur,  to  sleep  at  the 
same  fire  and  with  their  he-ads  on  the  same  saddle,  but  in  the 
meantime  something  occurred  to  separate  them.  Not  more 
than  a  week  after  their  reunion  a  messenger  arrived  from 
Courland  with  tidings  that  the  Hassling  who  had  adopted 
the  young  Scot  and  given  him  his  estates  had  suddenly  fallen 
ill  and  greatly  desired  to  see  his  adopted  son.  The  young 
knight  did  not  hesitate,  but  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away. 

Before  departing  he  begged  Zagloba  and  Pan  Michael  to 
consider  his  house  as  their  own  and  live  there  till  they  were 
tired  of  it. 

"Pan  Yan  may  come,"  he  said.  "He  will  surely  come 
during  the  election  and  even  if  he  brings  all  his  children 
there  is  room  enough  for  the  whole  family.  I  have  no  rela- 
tives; and  even  if  I  had  any  brothers  they  could  not  be  any 
nearer  to  me  than  you  are." 

Zagloba  in  particular  was  gratified  with  the  invitation,  for 
he  was  very  comfortable  in  Ketling's  house;  but  Pan  Michael 
was  also  glad  of  it. 

Pan  Yan  did  not  come,  but  Pan  Michael's  sister  an- 
nounced her  arrival.  She  was  the  wife  of  Pan  Makovyetska, 
Stolnik1  of  Latychov.  His  messenger  inquired  at  the  Het- 
man's  residence  if  any  of  his  followers  knew  of  the  knight 
and  Ketling's  house  was  pointed  out  to  him  at  once. 

Pan  Michael  was  greatly  delighted  for  it  was  many  years 
since  he  had  seen  his  sister  and  when  he  heard  that  for  lack 
of  better  accommodation  she  had  stopped  at  Rybak  at  a  mean 
hut,  he  immediately  hastened  to  invite  her  to  Ketling's 
house. 

It  was  twilight  when  he  rushed  into  her  presence;  but  he 
knew  her  immediately,  though  two  other  ladies  were  present, 
for  she  was  very  short  and  round  as  a  ball  of  thread.  She 
recognized  him  also;  they  fell  into  each  other's  embrace  and 

iStolnik— pantler,  a  title  of  nobility  in  Poland. 
(40 


41  PAN  MICHAEL. 

for  a  long  time  they  remained  silent  while  he  felt  her  warm 
tears  on  his  face. 

Pani  Makoveytska  was  the  first  to  recover  her  speech  and 
began  to  say  in  rather  thin  and  shrill  accents: 

"So  many  years!  so  many  years!  God  help  you  dearest 
brother!  The  moment  I  received  tidings  of  your  misfortune 
I  at  once  hastened  to  come  hither  and  my  husband  did  not 
detain  me.  There  is  also  talk  of  the  Byalogrod  Tartars  and 
the  roads  are  becoming  black  with  immense  nocks  of  birds 
and  that  always  happens  before  an  invasion.  God  console 
you  brother  dear!  Brother  of  gold!  My  husband  had  to 
come  to  the  election  himself  so  he  said:  "Take  the  girls 
and  go  on  before  me.  You  will  comfort  Michael  in  his  sor- 
row and  you  must  hide  your  head  somewhere  from  the  Tar- 
tars, for  the  country  here  will  be  in  names,  so  that  one  thing 
fits  in  with  the  other.  Go  to  Warsaw  while  there  is  time  to 
hire  good  quarters  so  that  we  may  have  some  place  to  dwell. 
He  is  watching  the  roads  with  the  inhabitants  of  those  parts. 
There  are  very  few  troops  in  the  country  as  is  always  the 
way.  Michael  beloved,  come  to  the  window  and  let  me  look 
at  you;  your  lips  have  grown  thin,  but  in  sorrow  it  cannot 
be  otherwise.  In  Russia  it  was  easy  for  my  husband  to  say 
'Find  lodgings T  but  they  are  nowhere  to  be  had.  We  are  in 
this  shanty.  I  have  been  scarcely  able  to  get  three  bundles 
of  straw  to  sleep  on." 

"Allow  me,  sister,"  said  the  little  knight. 

But  his  sister  would  not  allow  and  kept  on  talking  like 
the  rattle  of  a  mill. 

"We  stopped  here,  there  was  no  other  place.  My  host 
glares  at  one  with  the  eyes  of  a  wolf;  most  likely  they  are 
bad  people  in  the  house.  It  is  true  that  we  have  four  trust- 
worthy attendants  and  we  are  not  timid  ourselves,  for  unless 
a  woman  had  a  bold  heart  in  our  parts  she  could  not  live 
there.  I  always  carry  a  pistol  with  me  and  Basia  has  two; 
but  Krysia  does  not  like  firearms.  But  this  is  a  queer  place, 
and  we  should  like  safer  lodgings." 

"Allow  me,  sister    ..."  repeated  Pan  Michael. 

"But  where  are  you  staying,  Michael?  You  must  aid  me 
in  finding  lodgings,  for  you  are  acquainted  with  Warsaw." 

"I  have  lodgings  ready,"  interrupted  Pan  Michael,  "and 
they  are  fine  enough  for  a  senator  to  occupy  with  his  train. 
I  am  staying  with  my  friend,  Captain  Ketling,  and  will  take 
you  with  me  at  once." 


PAN  MICHAEL.  43 

"But  recollect  that  there  are  three  of  us  with  two  servants 
and  four  attendants.  But  Good  Heavens!  I  have  not  yet 
introduced  you  to  my  two  companinos." 

Here  she  turned  to  them. 

"Young  ladies,  you  know  who  he  is,  but  he  does  not  know 
who  you  are;  you  must  make  each  other's  acquaintance  even 
if  it  is  dark.  The  stove  has  not  yet  been  lighted.  This  is 
Panna  Krystina  Drohoyovska  and  that  Panna  Barbara 
Yezyorkovska.  My  husband  is  the  guardian  of  them  and 
their  property;  they  are  orphans  and  live  with  us.  It  is  not 
proper  for  young  ladies  to  live  alone." 

As  his  sister  spoke  Pan  Michael  made  a  military  bow  and 
the  young  ladies  took  hold  of  their  skirts  and  courtesied 
and  Panna  Barbara  tossed  her  head  like  a  young  colt. 

"Let  us  take  our  seats  in  the  carriage  and  go!"  said  Pan 
Michael.  "Pan  Zagloba  is  staying  with  us.  I  asked  him  to 
have  supper  ready." 

"The  famous  Pan  Zagloba?"  quickly  asked  Panna  Basia.1 

"Basia,  be  quiet!"  said  the  lady.  "I  am  afraid  that  we  shall 
be  giving  trouble!' 

"Oh,  if  Pan  Zagloba  has  anything  to  do  with  the  supper 
there  will  be  enough  even  though  twice  as  many  should  ap- 
pear," interrupted  the  little  knight.  "And  young  ladies, 
will  you  order  out  the  trunks?  I  also  brought  a  wagon  for 
the  baggage  and  Ketlingfs  carriage  is  so  roomy  that  we  four 
can  easily  sit  in  it.  This  is  my  idea,  if  you  have  sober  at- 
tendants they  can  stay  till  the  morning  with  the  horses  and 
larger  things.  We  will  now  take  only  what  is  most  needed." 

"We  need  not  leave  anything,"  said  the  lady,  "for  our 
wagons  have  not  yet  been  unpacked;  just  harness  the  hors«s 
and  they  can  go  at  once.  Basia  go  and  fill  the  orders!" 

Basia  darted  into  the  hall  and  a  few  Paters  later,  returned 
with  the  announcement  that  all  was  ready. 

"Let  us  go,"  said  Pan  Michael. 

They  were  soon  in  the  carriage  and  on  the  way  to  Mokotov. 
Pan  Michael's  sister  and  Panna  Krystina  occupied  t/he  rear 
seat  and  the  little  knight  sat  beside  Basia  in  front.  It  was 
already  so  dark  that  they  could  not  distinguish  one  another's 
features. 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  Warsaw,  young  ladies?"  asked 

'Basia  and  Bashknave,  diminutives  of  Barbara ;  Krysia,  diminutive  of  Krys- 
tina. The  Sclavonic  languages  arc  rich  in  diminutives  and  endearing  names — 
•ometimes  expressing  familiarity,  love,  pity,  etc. 


44  P&X  MICHAEL. 

Pan  Michael,  leaning  towards  Panna  Krysia  and  raising  his 
voice  above  the  clatter  of  the  carriage. 

"No,"  she  answered  in  a  low,  but  sweet  and  resonant  voice. 
"We  are  regular  country  girls  and  till  this  moment  have 
known  neither  famous  cities  nor  famous  men." 

Then  she  slightly  bowed  as  if  intimating  that  she  num- 
bered Pan  Michael  among  the  latter;  which  reply  he  grate- 
fully received.  "A  courteous  maiden,"  he  thought  and  be- 
gan to  rack  his  brains  for  an  answering  compliment. 

"Even  if  the  city  were  ten  times  as  large  as  it  is,"  said  he 
at  last,  "still  you,  ladies,  would  be  its  greatest  ornament." 

"But  how  can  you  tell  that  in  the  dark?"  quickly  asked 
Panna  Yezyorkovska. 

"Aha,  here  is  a  goat  for  you!"  thought  Pan  Michael. 

But  he  said  nothing  and  they  drove  along  in  silence  for 
some  time.  Basia  again  turned  to  the  little  kinght  and 
asked: 

"Do  you  know  if  there  is  sufficient  room  in  the  stables? 
We  have  ten  horses  and  two  carriages." 

"Even  if  there  were  thirty  they  could  be  accommodated." 

"Whew!  whew!"  answered  the  young  lady. 

"Bashka,"  said  Pani  Makovyetska,  reprovingly. 

"Ah,  it  is  easy  to  say,  'Bashka,  Bashka!'  but  who  took 
care  of  the  horses  during  the  whole  journey?" 

Thus  conversing  they  arrived  at  Ketling's  house. 

All  the  windows  were  brilliantly  illuminated  to  receive 
the  Pani  Stolnikova.  The  servants  hurried  out,  headed  by 
Pan  Zagloba;  on  reaching  the  carriage  and  seeing  three  ladies 
he  immediately  asked: 

"Which  of  you  ladies  have  I  the  honor  to  greet  as  my 
particular  benefactress  and  the  sister  of  my  best  friend, 
Michael?" 

"I  am  she!"  the  lady  answered. 

Zagloba  then  took  her  hand  and  began  fervently  to  kiss 
it,  repeating  "I  am  your  slave!  I  am  your  slave!" 

Then  he  aided  her  to  alight  and  led  her  with  great  cere- 
mony and  clattering  of  feet  to  the  ante-room. 

"Allow  me  to  offer  again  my  most  humble  welcome  at  the 
threshold,"  he  said  on  the  way. 

Meanwhile  Pan  Michael  was  helping  the  young  ladies  out 
of  the  carriage.  As  it  was  high  and  the  steps  were  hard  to 
find  in  the  dark  he  seized  Panna  Krystina  around  the  waist 
and  lifted  her  to  the  ground  and  she  for  an  instant  submitted 
to  the  pressure  of  his  breast  against  hers  and  said: 


PAN   MICHAEL.  45 

'Thank  you/' 

Pan  Michael  then  turned  to  Panna  Barbara;  but  she  had 
already  jumped  out  on  the  other  side  of  the  carriage  and 
eo  he  offered  his  arm  to  Panna  Krystina. 

Inside  the  house  they  were  introduced  to  Pan  Zagloba. 
lie  was  delighted  to  see  the  two  young  ladies  and  imme- 
diately invited  them  to  sit  down  to  supper.  The  dishes 
were  already  steaming  on  the  table  and,  as  Michael  had  fore- 
seen, there  was  enough  for  twice  as  large  a  party. 

They  took  their  seats.  Pan  Michael's  sister  occupied  the 
first  place;  on  her  right  sat  Zagloba,  and  then  came  Panna 
Basia.  Pan  Michael  sat  on  the  left  next  to  Panna  Krysia. 

And  now  for  the  "first  time  the  little  knight  was  able  to 
take  a  good  look  at  the  ladies. 

Both  were  handsome;  but  each  in  a  different  style.  Kry- 
sia's  hair  was  black  as  a  raven's  wing,  with  brows  to  match, 
her  eyes  were  of  a  deep  blue;  though  a  brunette  her  com- 
plexion was  so  delicate  that  the  blue  veins  on  her  temples 
were  visible.  A  dark  down  scarcely  discernible  shaded  her 
upper  lip,  revealing  a  sweet  and  alluring  mouth  that  slightly 
pouted  as  if  for  a  kiss.  She  was  in  mourning,  for  she  had 
recently  lost  her  father  and  the  sombreness  of  her  dress  to- 
gether with  her  delicate  complexion  and  dusky  hair  gave  her 
a  certain  severe  and  melancholy  air.  At  the  first  glance  she 
seemed  older  than  her  companion  but  on  looking  more 
closely  Pan  Michael  could  see  that  the  blood  of  first  youth  was 
ilowing  beneath  that  transparent  skin.  The  longer  he  gazed 
the  more  he  admired  her  air  of  distinction,  her  swan-like 
neck,  and  her  charming  contours  of  maiden  grace. 

"She  is  a  great  lady  with  a  noble  soul,"  he  thought,  "but 
the  other  is  a  regular  hoyden." 

In  truth  the  comparison  was  a  just  one. 

Basia  was  much  more  petite  than  her  companion,  though 
by  no  means  spare;  she  was  light-haired  and  red  as  a  bunch 
of  roses.  Her  hair  'had  been  cut  short,  as  if  after  illness,  and 
she  wore  it  in  a  golden  net.  But  it  would  not  stay  still  on 
her  restless  head  and  the  ends  peeped  out  through  each  mesh 
of  the  net  and  strayed  over  her  brow  in  disorderly  yellow 
locks  like  the  shock  of  a  Cossack  which,  in  combination  with 
her  sharp  restless  eyes  and  saucy  air,  made  that  rosy  face  like 
that  of  a  schoolboy  who  is  only  waiting  for  a  chance  to 
embroil  others  and  himself  escape  punishment. 

Still  she  was  so  fresh  and  shapely  that  it  was  difficult  tf 


46  ^V   MICHAEL. 

take  ones  eyes  off  her;  her  diminutive  nose  was  slightly  re- 
trousse with  mobile  and  dilating  nostrils  and  dimples  in  her 
cheeks  and  chin,  revealing  a  merry  nature. 

But  now  she  was  sitting  in  quiet  dignity  and  eating  heart- 
ily, only  glancing  from  time  to  time  at  Zagloba  and  Michael 
in  turn  and  gazing  at  them  with  a  glance  that  was  almost 
childlike  in  its  curiosity,  as  though  at  some  great  marvel. 

Pan  Michael  was  silent,  for  though  he  felt  it  incumbent 
on  him  to  entertain  Panna  Krysia,  he  did  not  know  how  to 
begin.  Generally  speaking  the  little  knight  was  not  adroit 
in  conversing  with  ladies;  but  now  he  was  more  taciturn 
than  usual,  for  these  maidens  vividly  recalled  the  dear  one 
who  was  dead. 

Pan  Zagloba  entertained  Pani  Makovyetska  with  the  re- 
lation of  Pan  Michael's  exploits  and  his  own.  Half  way 
through  supper  he  began  to  tell  how  they  had  once  escaped 
with  Princess  Kurtsevich  and  Jendzian  through  an  entire 
chambul  and  how  they  two  had  hurled  themselves  against 
the  chambul  to  hinder  the  pursuit  and  save  the  princess. 

Basia  stopped  eating  and,  resting  her  chin  on  her  hand, 
listened  intently,  occasionally  shaking  her  locks,  blinking  her 
eyes,  'and  snapping  her  fingers  at  the  most  interesting  places 
and  crying: 

"Ah,  ha!  well,  what  next?  what  next?" 

But  when  he  came  to  the  place  where  Kushel's  dragoons 
galloped  up  unexpectedly  to  their  aid,  fell  upon  the  Tartars, 
and  rode  on  sabring  them  for  half  a  mile,  she  could  contain 
herself  no  longer,  but  clapped  her  hands  with  all  her  might 
and  cried: 

"Ah!  I  should  have  loved  to  be  there,  God  knows  I 
should!" 

"Bashka!"  cried  the  plump  little  Pani  Makovyetska  in  a 
strong  Eussian  accent,  "you  are  now  among  polite  people; 
avoid  your  'God  knows/  Great  God!  the  only  thing  left 
is  for  you  to  ejaculate,  'May  the  bullets  strike  me!'  v 

The  maiden  burst  out  laughing  again  in  silvery  tones  sud- 
denly placing  her  hands  on  her  knees  and  said: 

"May  the  bullets  strike  me!   Auntie." 

"0  my  God,  my  ears  will  shrivel  up!  I  beg  the  whole  com- 
pany's pardon,"  said  the  lady. 

Then  Bashka,  anxious  to  obtain  her  aunt's  pardon,  sprang 
from  her  seat  and  in  doing  so  dropped  her  knife  and  spoons 
under  the  table  and  then  dived  after  them. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  47 

The  plump  little  lady  could  no  longer  restrain  her  laughter 
and  she  had  an  extraordinary  laugh,  for  she  first  began  to 
shake  and  tremble  and  then  to  pipe  in  a  thin  voice.  The 
merriment  was  general.  Zagloba  was  in  raptures. 

"You  see  what  trouble  I  have  with  her/'  said  Pani  Mako- 
vyetska  convulsively. 

"She  is  absolutely  delightful,  as  God  is  dear  to  me/'  cried 
Zagloba. 

Meanwhile  Bashka  had  crawled  from  under  the  table;  she 
had  found  her  knife  and  spoons,  but  had  lost  her  net  and 
her  hair  was  falling  all  about  her  eyes.  She  stood  erect,  and 
with  quivering  nostrils,  said: 

"Aha,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  make  merry  at  my  con- 
fusion! Very  well!" 

"No  one  is  laughing/7  said  Zagloba  in  a  tone  that  carried 
conviction  with  it,  "no  one  is  laughing, — no  one  is  laughing! 
We  are  only  rejoicing  that  the  Lord  God  has  delighted  us 
with  the  presence  of  your  ladyship." 

After  the  meal  they  went  into  the  salon.  Seeing  a  lute 
on  the  wall  Panna  Krysia  took  it  down  and  began  to  finger 
the  notes.  Pan  Michael  begged  her  to  sing  something  to 
its  accompaniment  and  she  answered  with  kindness  and  can- 
dor: 

"I  am  quite  willing  if  it  will  relieve  your  soul  of  some  of  its 
sadness." 

"Thank  you,"  answered  Pan  Michael  gratefully  looking  at 
her. 

In  a  few  moments  she  sang  as  follows; 

"  Knights,  heed  my  tale, 
Useless  is  mail, 
Shields  naught  avail. 
Strongest  steel  parts, 
Cupid's  keen  darts 
Pierce  to  all  hearts." 

"I  cannot  find  words  to  thank  you,"  said  Zagloba  as  he 
sat  apart  with  Pan  Michael's  sister  and  kissed  her  hands,  "for 
coming  yourself  and  bringing  with  you  such  lovely  maidens 
that  the.  very  Graces  might  be  their  handmaids.  That  little 
haiduk  in  particular  pleases  me,  for  a  creature  of  that  kind 
banishes  sorrow  so  that  a  weasel  could  not  hunt  mice  more 
successfully.  In  truth,  what  is  grief  but  mice  that  consume 
the  grains  of  joy  stored  in  our  hearts.  You,  my  benefactress, 
must  know  that  our  late  king,  John  Oasimir,  was  so  fond 


48  PAN  MICHAEL. 

of  my  similes  that  he  could  not  endure  a  day  without  them. 
I  had  to  compose  proverbs  and  wise  maxims  for  him.  He 
used  to  have  them  repeated  to  him  at  bedtime  and  his  policy 
was  guided  by  them.  But  that  is  another  matter.  I  hope 
that  our  Michael  will  entirely  forget  his  terrible  misfortune 
in  the  company  of  these  delightful  girls.  You  are  not  aware 
that  it  is  only  a  week  since  I  dragged  him  out  of  the  Camedoli 
cloister  where  he  wanted  to  take  the  vows;  but  I  gained  the 
intervention  of  the  nuncio  'himself  who  threatened  the  Prior 
with  turning  all  the  monks  in  the  monastery  into  dragoons 
if  he  did  not  immediately  let  Michael  go.  That  was  no  place 
for  him.  Praise  be  to  (rod!  .  .  .  Praise  be  to  God!  I 
know  him!  if  not  to-day  then  to-morrow  one  of  these  two 
will  strike  such  sparks  out  of  him  that  his  heart  will  burn 
like  tinder/ 

Meanwhile  Krysia  continued: — 

"  If  shields  cannot  save 
The  strong  and  the  brave 
From  darts  and  the  grave, 
How  shall  a  fair  maid 
Love's  raiders  evade  ? 
Whom  turn  to  for  aid  ?" 

"The  fair  maid  has  as  much  fear  of  those  darts  as  a  dog 
has  of  meat/"  whispered  Zagloba  to  Pan  Michael's  sister. 
"But  confess,  my  benefactress,  you  did  not  bring  those  little 
mice  here  without  ulterior  designs.  They  are  maidens  in  a 
hundred! — that  little  haiduk  in  particular.  I  wish  I  were 
as  fresh  as  she!  Has  not  Michael  a  cunning  little  sister,  eh?" 

Pani  Makovyetska  assumed  a  very  knowing  look,  which, 
however,  did  not  at  all  become  her  honest  simple  countenance 
and  said,  "I  had  my  own  thoughts,  as  is  natural,  women  are 
not  lacking  in  shrewdness.  My  husband  had  to  come  here 
for  the  election  and  I  brought  the  girls  on  first,  for  with 
us  there  is  never  anyone  to  see  except  Tartars.  If  any  good 
fortune  should  happen  to  Michael  in  consequence  I  would 
make  a  pilgrimage  to  some  miracle-working  image." 

"It  will  happen!   it  will  happen!"  said  Zagloba. 

"Both  come  of  great  houses  and  have  property;  which 
also  means  something  in  these  troublous  times." 

"You  need  not  tell  me  that.  The  war  has  eaten  up 
Michael's  fortune,  though  I  know  that  he  has  some  funds 
out  at  interest  with  great  nobles.  More  than  once,  gracious 
lady,  we  captured  great  spoil;  and  though  it  was  turned  over 


PAN   MICHAEL.  49 

to  the  Hetman,  still  a  part  was  shared  'according  to  sabres7 
in  military  parlance.  More  than  once  Michael's  share  was 
•o  great  that  if  he  had  saved  it  all  he  would  have  had  a  nice 
fortune  hy  now.  But  a  soldier  takes  no  thought  of  the 
morrow;  he  only  enjoys  himself  to-day.  And  Michael  would 
have  squandered  all  he  possessed,  if  it  had  not  been  that  I 
always  restrained  him.  You  say  then,  gracious  lady,  that 
these  maidens  are  of  gentle  blood?" 

"Krysia  is  of  senatorial  blood.  It  is  true  that  our  cas- 
tellans of  the  border  are  not  castellans  of  Cracow  and  few 
people  in  the  Commonwealth  have  ever  heard  of  some  of 
them;  but  still  he  who  has  once  occupied  a  senator's  chair 
bequeaths  his  splendor  and  power  to  his  posterity.  As  to 
connections  Bashka  'almost  surpasses  Krysia." 

"Really!  I  myself  am  descended  from  a  king  of  the  Mas- 
sagetas  so  that  I  like  to  hear  genealogies." 

"Bashka  does  not  come  from  such  an  exalted  nest  as 
that,  but  if  you  care  to  listen, — for  in  our  parts  we  can  tell 
the  degrees  of  kinship  of  every  house  on  our  fingers,— she  is 
in  fact  related  to  the  Pototskis  and  the  Yazlovyetskis  and  the 
Lasohes.  You  see,  Sir,  this  is  how  it  is." 

Here  Pani  Stolnikova  arranged  the  folds  of  her  dress  and 
assumed  a  more  comfortable  position  so  that  nothing  might 
interfere  with  her  favorite  story;  she  spread  out  the  fingers 
of  one  hand  and  prepared  to  tell  off  the  ancestors  with  the 
index  finger  of  the  other. 

"Elizabeth,  the  daughter  of  Pan  Yakob  Pototski,  by  his 
second  wife,  a  Yazlovyetski,  married  Pan  Yan  Smyotanko, 
banneret  of  Podolia." 

"I  have  taken  note  of  that,"  said  Zagloba. 

"From  that  union  was  born  Michael  Smyotanko,  likewise 
banneret  of  Podolia." 

"IFm,  a  fine  position,"  said  Zagloba. 

"He  was  first  married  to  a  Dorohosto — no!  to  a  ftojynski 
— no!  to  a  Voronich!  The  deuce,  I  forget!" 

"May  she  rest  in  eternal  peace,  whoever  she  was,"  said 
Zagloba  gravely. 

"And  as  his  second  wife  he  married  Panna  Laschovna." 

"I  expected  that!    How  did  the  marriage  result?" 

"Their  sons  died." 

"Every  joy  of  this  world  fades  away." 

"But  of  our  daughters,  the  youngest,  Anna,  marrivd  Yezy- 
orkovski,  of  the  house  of  Ravich,  a  commissioner  for  settling 
4 


50  PAN   MICHAEL. 

the  boundaries  of  Podolia;  if  I  am  not  mistaken  he  was  after- 
wards Sword-Bearer  of  Podolia." 

"I  remember,  he  was,"  cried  Zagloba,  in  a  tone  of  convic- 
tion. 

"From  that  marriage  you  see  Bashka  was  born/' 

"I  see  and  moreover  I  see  that  at  this  moment  she  is  taking 
aim  with  Ketling's  musket/7  In  fact  Krysia  and  the  little 
knight  were  engaged  in  conversation  and  Bashka  was  amus- 
ing herself  with  aiming  the  musket  at  the  window. 

Pani  Makovyetska  began  to  tremble  and  call  out  at  the 
sight. 

"You  cannot  imagine  what  I  suffer  with  that  girl!  She 
is  a  regular  haydamak." 

"If  the  haydamaks  were  all  like  her  I  would  join  them 
immediately." 

"Her  head  runs  on  nothing  but  arms,  horses,  and  war. 
Once  she  stole  away  from  the  house  to  hunt  ducks  with  a 
gun.  She  crept  in  somewhere  among  the  reeds  and  was 
looking  about  her  when  they  suddenly  parted  and  what  do 
you  think  she  saw?  The  head  of  a  Tartar  stealing  through 
the  reeds  towards  the  village!  Any  other  woman  would  have 
been  terrified  and  woe  to  her  if  she  did  not  fire  quickly!  The 
Tartar  dropped  into  the  water.  Just  think!  she  had  dropped 
him  like  a  flash  and  what  with,  do  you  think?  Duck-shot/' 

Here  the  lady  began  again  to  shake  and  laugh  at  the  Tar- 
tar's misfortune  and  then  added: 

"And,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  saved  us  all,  for  an  entire 
chambul  was  advancing;  but  as  she  came  and  gave  the  alarm 
we  had  time  to  escape  to  the  woods  with  the  servants.  That 
is  what  we  always  do!" 

Zagloba's  face  was  radiant  and  his  eyes  were  blinking;  he 
sprang  up,  hurried  across  to  the  maiden,  and  before  she  had 
noticed  him,  he  had  kissed  her  on  the  brow,  saying: 

"Take  this  from  an  old  soldier  for  that  Tartar  among  the 
reeds." 

She  gave  her  golden  locks  a  vigorous  shake. 

"Didn't  he  get  in  the  neck?"  she  cried  in  her  fresh  child- 
like voice  that  sounded  so  strangely  at  variance  with  her 
words. 

"You  dearest  little  haydamak!"  cried  Zagloba  with  emo- 
tion. 

"But  what  is  one  Tartar?  You  gentlemen  have  cut  them 
down  by  the  thousand,  besides  Swedes,  and  Germans,  and 


PAN   MICHAEL.  5! 

Rakotsi's  Hungarians.  Wha't  am  I  compared  with  you  gentle- 
men,— knights  who  have  no  peers  in  the  Commonwealth!  I 
know  that  well  enough! 

"I  will  teach  you  to  wield  the  sabre  since  you  are  so  cour- 
ageous. I  am  rather  heavy  now,  but  Michael  is  also  a 
master." 

At  this  offer  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  kissed  Zagloba  on 
the  shoulder  and  courtesied  to  the  little  knight,  saying — 

"Many  thanks  for  the  promise:  I  know  a  little  about  it 
already." 

But  Pan  Michael  was  absorbed  in  conversation  with  Krysia 
and  therefore  answered  absently, — 

"Whatever  you  command." 

Zagloba  with  a  beaming  face  again  took  his  seat  beside 
Pani  Makovyetska. 

"My  gracious  benefactress,"  he  said,  "I  well  know  which 
are  the  best  Turkish  sweetmeats,  as  I  spent  many  years  at 
Stambul;  but  I  also  know  that  there  is  a  whole  universe 
of  people  just  hungry  for  them.  How  is  it  that  no  one  has 
hitherto  coveted  that  maiden?" 

"As  God  lives,  they  had  no  lack  of  wooers.  But  we  jok- 
ingly call  Bashka  the  widow  of  three  husbands,  for  at  one 
time  three  worthy  cavaliers  were  all  paying  their  addresses 
to  her  at  once,  all  nobles  of  our  district,  and  heirs,  whose  re- 
lationship I  can  explain  to  you  in  detail." 

Pani  Makovyetska  spread  out  the  fingers  of  her  left  hand 
and  extended  her  right  index  finger  when  Zagloba  hastily 
said: 

"And  what  happned  to  them?" 

"All  three  died  in  battle;  so  we  call  Basia  a  widow." 

"H'm!  but  how  did  she  support  her  loss?" 

"With  us  you  see  it  is  a  case  of  daily  occurrence  and  it 
is  a  rare  thing  for  any  man  after  reaching  maturity  to  die 
a  natural  death.  Some  of  us  even  hold  that  it  does  not  befit 
a  noble  to  die  otherwise  than  in  the  field.  How  did  Bashka 
take  it?  Oh,  she  ^hed  a  few  tears,  poor  girl,  but  principally 
in  the  stable,  for  when  anything  troubles  her  tiki's  where 
she  goes.  Once  I  sent  for  her  and  asked  'Whom  are  you 
grieving  over?'  'All  three'  she  answered.  I  saw  from  the 
reply  that  she  had  not  been  pleased  by  any  one  in  particular. 
I  think  that  as  her  head  is  full  of  other  things  slu-  has  not 
yet  met  her  fate;  Krysia  has  been  somewhat  touched,  but 
Bashka  perhaps  not  at  all." 


j2  PAN   MICHAEL. 

"She  will  meet  it!"  said  Zagloba.  "Gracious  lady  you  and 
I  understand  that  well  enough.  She  will  meet  it!" 

"It  is  predestined  for  all  of  us,"  said  Pani  Makovyetska, 

"Exactly!    You  took  the  words  out  of  my  mouth." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  approach  of 
the  young  people. 

The  little  knight  had  grown  quite  hold  with  Krysia  and 
she  in  the  manifest  goodness  'oi  her  heart,  ministered  to 
him  and  his  sorrow  like  a  physican  to  a  patient.  ]Jor  this 
very  reason  perhaps  she  showed  him  more  kindness  than  was 
warranted  by  their  short  acquaintance.  But  as  Pan  Michael 
was  the  brother  of  the  Stolnikova  to  whose  husband  the 
young  rlady  was  related,  no  one  was  surprised.  Bashka  kept 
somewhat;  apart  and  only  Zagloba  gave  her  his  undivided 
attention.  But  however  that  might  be,  apparently  it  was 
all  the  same  to  Bashka  whether  anyone  paid  her  any  at- 
tention or  not.  At  first  she  gazed  admiringly  at  both  knights, 
but  she  examined  Ketling's  wonderful  weapons  displayed  on 
the  walls  with  equal  admiration.  Later  on  she  began  to 
yawn;  then  her  eyes  became  heavier  and  heavier  till  at  last 
she  said: 

"I  'am  so  sleepy  that  I  shall  not  be  fully  awake  till  the 
morning." 

At  these  words  all  immediately  separated;  for  the  ladies 
were  .  greatly  fatigued  from  the  journey  and  only  waited 
for  their  beds  to  be  made  ready.  At  last  when  Zagloba  found 
himself  alone  with  Pan  Michael,  he  first  began  to  wink 
significantly  and  then  to  pummel  him  lightly.  "Michael! 
what,  Michael,  like  turnips,  eh?  That  bilberry  Krysia  is  a 
sweet  one.  And  that  rosy  little  haiduk,  eh?  What  have  you 
to  say  about  her,  Michael?" 

"What?     Nothing!"  answered  the  little  knight. 

"That  little  haiduk  pleased  me  most.  I  tell  you  that  when 
I  sat  beside  her  at  supper  I  was  as  warm  as  a  stove." 

"She  is  still  a  kid;   the  other  is  ever  so  much  statelier." 

"Parma  Drohoyovska  is  a  Hungarian  plum;  but  the  other 
is  a  little  nut!  As  God  lives,  if  only  I  had  teeth!  I  meant 
to  say  that  if  I  had  such  a  daughter  I  would  give  her  up  to  no 
man  but  you.  She  is  an  almond,  I  say,  an  almond!" 

Pan  Michael  suddenly  became  very  sad,  for  he  remembered 
the  names  Zagloba  used  to  call  Anusia.  She  rose  in  his 
memory  and  stood  before  him  as  in  life, — her  figure,  her 
little  face,  her  dark  tresses,  her  joyousness,  her  words,  and 


PAN   MICHAEL, 

Oo 

looks.  These  were  both  younger,  and  yet  she  was  a  hundred 
times  dearer  than  any  who  had  the  advantage  of  youth. 

The  little  knight  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  was 
overcome  with  grief  the  more  in  that  it  was  unexpected. 

Zagloba  was  amazed  and  for  some  time  kept  silence  and 
gazed  uneasily  at  him,  finally  he  asked: 

"Michael,  what  is  the  matter?  tell  me,  for  (rod's  sake!" 

Michael  answered: 

"So  many  are  alive  and  walking  through  the  world,  but 
my  lamb  is  no  longer  among  them;  I  shall  see  her  never 
again/7 

Then  his  voice  choked  with  anguish;  he  rested  his  brow 
on  the  side  of  the  divan  and  murmured  through  his  clenched 
teeth,  "0  God!  0  God!  0  God!" 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Panna  Basia  insisted  that  Pan  Michael  should  give  her 
some  fencing  lessons;  he  did  not  refuse  though  he  put  it  off 
for  some  days.  He  preferred  Krysia;  still,  he  liked  Basia 
very  much;  in  fact  it  was  impossible  not  to  like  her. 

One  morning  the  first  lesson  began,  principally  because 
Basia  boasted  and  asserted  that  that  she  was  by  no  means  a 
novice  in  the  art  and  that  no  ordinary  person  could  stand 
before  her. 

"An  old  soldier  taught  me,"  she  said,  "there  are  plenty  of 
them  among  us  and  it  is  notorious  that  our  swordsmen  have 
no  superiors.  It  is  a  question  even  whether  you  gentlemen 
would  not  find  your  match/' 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  cried  Zagloba.  "We  have 
no  equals  in  the  whole  world/' 

"I  wish  it  might  prove  that  even  I  am  your  equal.  I  do  not 
expect  that,  but  I  should  like  it." 

"It  it  were  pistol  practice  I  also  would  take  a  hand,"  said 
Pani  Makovyetska,  laughing. 

Good  heavens!  the  Amazons  themselves  must  live  in  Laty- 
chov,"  cried  Zagloba. 

Then  he  turned  to  Krysia: 

"And  what  weapon  does  your  ladyship  handle  best?" 

"None,"  answered  Krysia, 

"Ah,  ha!  none!"  cried  Basia.  And  then,  mimicing  Krysia's 
voice,  she  began  to  sing: — 

"Knights,  heed  my  tale, 
Useless  is  mail, 
Shields  naught  avail. 
Strongest  steel  parts, 
Cupid's  keen  darts 
Pierce  to  all  hearts." 

"She  wields  weapons  of  that  kind;  never  fear,"  added  Basia, 
turning  to  Pan  Michael  and  Zaglobe*-  "In  that  she  is  a  war- 
rior of  no  mean  skill." 


PAN   MICHAEL.  55 

"Take  your  position,  young  lady!"  said  Pan  Michael,  try- 
ing to  cover  his  confusion. 

"Oh,  as  God  lives!  if  it  should  turn  out  as  I  think!"  ex- 
claimed Basia,  flushing  with  pleasurable  anticipation. 

And  she  at  once  took  up  position  with  a  light  Polish  sabre 
in  her  right  hand;  she  raised  the  left  hand  behind  her,  and 
with  breast  advanced,  head  up,  and  nostrils  dilating,  she 
looked  so  pretty  and  rosy  that  Zagloba  whispered  to  Pan 
Michael's  sister: 

"No  flask,  even  if  filled  with  Hungarian  a  century  old, 
would  give  such  delight  to  gaze  on  it." 

"Remember,"  said  the  knight  to  Basia,  "I  will  only  defend 
myself;  I  will  not  once  lunge.  You  may  attack  as  rapidly  as 
you  like." 

"Very  well.     Say' when  you  want  me  to  stop." 

"I  could  stop  the  attack  without  a  word,  if  I  chose." 

"How  could  you  do  that?" 

"I  could  easily  disarm  a  fencer  like  you." 

"We  shall  see." 

"We  shall  not,  for  on  account  of  politeness  I  won't  do  it." 

"There  is  no  need  of  politeness  in  this  case.  Do  it  if  you 
can.  I  know  I  am  not  so  skilful  as  you,  but  still  I  will  not 
allow  you  to  do  that." 

"Then  you  permit  it?" 

"I  do." 

"Oh,  don't  give  permission,  sweetest  haiduk,"  said  Zagloba. 
"He  has  disarmed  the  greatest  masters." 

"We  shall  see!"  repeated  Basia. 

"Let  us  begin,"  said  Pan  Michael,  rather  nettled  at  her 
boasting. 

They  began. 

Basia  lunged  terribly,  skipping  about  like  a  colt  in  a  field. 
Pan  Michael  stood  on  one  spot  moving  his  sword  ever  so 
slightly,  as  was  his  custom,  and  faying  but  little  respect  to 
the  assault. 

"You  brush  me  off  like  an  annoying  fly,"  cried  the  exasper- 
ated Basia. 

"I  am  not  putting  you  to  the  test;  I  am  giving  you  a  les- 
son," answered  the  knight.  "That  is  good!  Not  at  all  bad  for 
a  fair  head!  Steadier  with  the  wrist!" 

"For  a  fair  head!  Have  at  you  for  a  fair  head! — have  at 
you — have  at  you — !" 

But  Pan  Michael,  although  Basia  used  her  best  passes,  had 


56  PAN   MICHAEL. 

an  impregnable  guard.  He  purposely  kept  up  a  conversation 
with  Zagloba  to  show  how  little  he  cared  for  Basia's  thrusts: 
"Stand  away  from  the  window,  you  are  in  the  lady's  light, 
and  though  a  sabre  is  larger  than  a  needle  she  has  less  experi- 
ence with  it." 

Basia's  nostrils  dilated  still  more  and  her  hair  fell  over  her 
nashing  eyes.  "Do  you  despise  me?"  she  asked  panting 
rapidly. 

"Not  your  person;  God  forbid!" 

"Pan  Michael,  I  hate  you!" 

"You  have  a  graduate  as  your  instructor  in  the  art,"  an- 
swered the  knight.  Again  he  turned  to  Zagloba:  "God  grant 
that  snow  may  soon  fall." 

"Here  is  snow!  snow!  snow!"  cried  Basia,  giving  thrust  after 
thrust. 

"Basia,  that  is  enough!  you  are  quite  out  of  breath,"  said 
Pani  Makovyetska. 

"Now  hold  on  to  your  sabre,  for  I  am  going  to  strike  it 
from  your  hand." 

"We  shall  see!" 

"There  it  is!" 

And  the  little  sabre,  flying  like  a  bird  out  of  Basia's  hand, 
fell  with  a  clatter  near  the  stove. 

"I  dropped  it  myself  unwittingly,"  she  cried  with  tears  in 
her  voice;  and,  recovering  it  she  thrust  again  like  lightning. 
"Try  it  now—!" 

"There!"  said  Pan  Michael.  And  a  second  time  the  sabre 
lay  beside  the  stove. 

"That  is  enough  for  to-day,"  then  said  the  knight. 

Pani  Makovyetska  began  to  chatter  more  loudly  than  usual; 
but  Basia  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  humiliated,  pant- 
ing, and  biting  her  lips  to  keep  back  the  tears  that  suffused 
her  eyes  notwithstanding  her  efforts.  She  knew  that  if  she 
gave  way  to  tea,rs  they  woufd  laugh  at  her  all  the  more  and 
therefore  tried  her  utmost  to  repress  them;  but  finding  that 
it  was  beyond  her  power,  she  suddenly  darted  out  of  the  room. 

"For  God's  sake!"  cried  Pani  Makovyetska,  "she  has  cer- 
tainly gone  to  the  stable  and  in  her  heated  condition  will  catch 
cold.  Someone  must  go  after  her.  Kyrsia,  don't  you  go!" 

With  these  words  she  went  out  and,  taking  a  warm  shawl 
from  the  hall  hurried  to  the  stable:  Zagloba  followed  her, 
being  anxious  about  his  little  haiduk.  Krysia  wanted  to  go 
too,  but  Pan  Michael  seized  her  by  the  hand. 


PAN    MICHAEL.  57 

"You  were  forbidden,  you  heard!  I  will  not  release  this 
hand  till  they  return." 

And  he  kept  hold  of  it.  But  that  hand  was  as  soft  as  silk. 
He  felt  as  if  a  warm  current  was  running  through  those 
slender  fingers  into  his  own  frame  and  instilling  delightful 
sensations;  so  he  took  a  firmer  grasp. 

A  fleeting  blush  tinged  Krysia's  face. 

"I  see  that  I  am  taken  captive." 

"Whoever  captured  such  a  prisoner  would  have  no  reason 
to  envy  even  the  Sultan,  for  the  Sultan  would  gladly  resign 
half  his  dominions  for  her." 

"But  you  would  not  sell  me  to  the  Infidels?" 

"No  more  than  I  would  sell  my  soul  to  the  Devil !" 

Here  Pan  Michael  saw  that  momentary  enthusiasm  had 
gone  too  far  so  he  moderated  it  with: 

"No  more  than  I  would  sell  my  sister." 

"That  is  the  right  word,"  said  Krystina  gravely.  "I  am 
an  affectionate  sister  to  your  sister  and  will  be  the  same  to 
you." 

"I  thank  you  from  my  heart!"  said  Pan  Michael,  kissing 
her  hand,  "for  I  am  in  great  need  of  consolation." 

"I  know,  I  know!"  replied  the  maiden,  "for  I  also  have  suf- 
fered a  loss."  Here  a  little  tear  fell  from  her  eyelid  and 
trickled  down  to  the  corner  of  her  mouth. 

Michael  gazed  at  the  tear  on  the  faintly  shaded  lip  and  at 
length  said: 

"You  are  as  kind  as  a  real  angel;  I  already  feel  consoled." 

Krysia  smiled  sweetly: 

"May  God  reward  you." 

Pan  Michael  felt  that  it  would  comfort  him  still  more  to 
kiss  her  hand  again,  but  at  that  moment  his  sister  appeared. 

"Basia  took  the  shawl,"  she  said,  "but  she  is  so  upset  that 
she  cannot  be  induced  to  come  in.  Pan  Zagloba  is  chasing 
her  all  over  the  stable." 

In  fact  Zagloba,  with  mingled  jest  and  entreaty,  not  only 
chased  Basia  all  over  the  stable  but  at  last  drove  her  into  the 
yard  hoping  to  induce  her  to  return  to  the  house.  She  ran 
awaw  crying,  "I  will  not  go!  Let  me  be  frozen!  I  will  not  go! 
I  will  not  go!"  At  last  seeing  a  ladder  leaning  against  the 
side  of  the  house,  she  sprang  up  it  like  a  squirrel  and  stopped 
at  the  eaves  of  the  roof.  From  her  seat  there  she  turned  to 
Pan  Zagloba  and  called  out  half  laughingly,  "Well,  I  will  go 
if  you  will  come  up  here  after  me." 


5g  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"What  kind  of  a  tom-cat  do  you  think  I  am,  little  haiduk, 
to  crawl  along  roofs  after  you?  Is  this  the  way  you  requite 
my  love  for  you?" 

"I  love  you  also,  but  from  the  roof." 

"Grandfather  wants  to  have  his  way  and  grandmother  hers. 
Come  down  this  moment!" 

"I  will  not." 

"It  is  quite  laughable  to  see  you  take  your  defeat  to  heart 
BO.  You  angry  weasel,  not  only  you  but  Pan  Andrey  who 
was  considered  a  master  of  masters  was  treated  by  Pan 
Michael  in  the  same  way,  and  not  in  sport  but  in  a  duel.  The 
most  celebrated  swordsmen,  Italians,  Germans,  and  Swedes, 
could  not  stand  before  him  long  enough  for  a  Pater  and  here 
is  a  gadfly  that  takes  it  to  heart!  Fie!  be  ashamed  of  your- 
self and  come  down!  Besides  you  are  only  a  beginner." 

"But  I  cannot  endure  Pan  Michael!" 

"God  bless  you!  Is  it  because  he  is  a  past-master  in  what 
you  yourself  want  to  know?  You  ought  to  like  him  all  the 
more." 

Zagloba  was  not  mistaken.  Basia's  admiration  for  Pan 
Michael  had  increased  in  spite  of  her  defeat;  but  she  replied: 
"Let  Kryfeia  love  him." 

"Come  down!  come  down!" 

"I  won't." 

"Very  well  then,  stay  there;  but  I  will  tell  you  one  thing: 
it  is  not  quite  the  thing  for  a  young  lady  to  sit  up  on  a  ladder, 
for  she  may  afford  the  world  an  interesting  exhibition." 

"But  I'm  not,"  cried  Basia,  gathering  in  her  skirts. 

"I'm  an  old  fellow, — I  won't  stare  my  eyes  out;  but  I'll  call 
the  others  in  a  moment  and  let  them  look  at  you." 

"I'll  come  down!"  cried  Basia, 

With  that  Zagloba  turned  away.  "As  God  lives,  there's 
somebody  coming!"  he  cried. 

And  in  fact,  round  the  corner  of  the  house  came  young 
Adam  Novovyeyski  who  had  arrived  on  horseback  and  tied 
his  horse  at  the  side-gate  and  was  coming  round  to  enter  by 
the  main  entrance.  On  seeing  him  Basia  was  on  the  ground  in 
a  couple  of  skips  but  it  was  too  late.  Unfortunately  Pan 
Adam  had  caught  sight  of  her  coming  down  the  ladder  and 
stood  still  in  confusion  and  surprise,  blushing  like  a  little  girl. 
Basia  stood  before  him  also  covered  with  blushes  till  at  last 
she  exclaimed: 

"A  second  confusion!" 


PAN    MICHAEL.  59 

Pan  Zagloba's  sound  eye  twinkled  with  amusement;  at 
length  he  said: 

"Pan  Novovyeyski,  a  friend  and  subordinate  of  our 
Michael,  and  this  is  Panna  Drabinovska1, — I  meant  to  say 
Yezyorkovska." 

Pan  Adam  quickly  recovered  himself  and  being  a  quick- 
witted soldier,  though  youthful,  he  bowed  and  lifting  his  eyes 
to  this  vision  of  loveliness,  said  "God!  roses  bloom  amid  the 
snow  in  Ketling's  garden." 

But  as  Basia  bowed  she  muttered  "For  some  other  nose 
than  yours."  Then  she  said  most  charmingly: 

"Come  into  the  house,  I  beg  you.7' 

She  led  the  way,  and  darting  into  the  room  where  Pan 
Michael  and  the  others  were  sitting,  said,  referring  to  the  Pan 
Adam's  red  kontush: 

"The  red  finch  has  come!"  She  then  took.a  seat,  crossed 
her  hands,  and  pursed  up  her  lips  in  the  manner  of  a  modest 
and  carefully  trained  young  lady. 

Pan  Michael  introduced  his  young  friend  to  his  sister  and 
Panna  Krysia,  and  the  former  seeing  another  young  lady 
equally  beautiful,  but  in  a  different  style,  was  again  con- 
fused; however  he  covered  his  nervousness  with  a  bow  and  to 
regain  his  courage  raised  his  hand  to  his  budding  moustache. 

Twisting  his  fingers  above  his  upper  lip  he  turned  to  Pan 
Michael  and  explained  the  object  of  his  visit.  The  Grand 
Hetman  was  anxious  to  see  the  little  knight.  So  far  as  Pan 
Adam  could  tell  it  was  about  some  military  matters,  for  the 
Hetman  had  recently  received  letters  from  Pan  Vilchkovski, 
Pan  Silnitski,  Colonel  Pivo  and  other  commanders  in  the 
Ukraine  and  Podolia  with  unfavorable  reports  of  happenings 
in  the  Crimea. 

"The  Khan  himself  and  Sultan  Galga  who  concluded  a 
treaties  with  us  at  Podhayets,"  proceeded  Pan  Adam,  "wish 
to  observe  the  terms:  but  Budzyak  is  as  restless  as  a  beehive 
at  swarming-time.  The  Byalogrod  tribes  were  also  in  a  fer- 
ment and  are  unwilling  to  obey  either  the  Khan  or  Galga." 

"Pan  Sobieski  has  already  told  me  of  that  and  asked  my 
advice/'  said  Zagloba.  "What  do  they  now  say  about  the 
Spring?" 

"They  say  that  the  first  grass  will  certainly  see  a  movement 
of  these  vermin,  and  it  will  be  necessary  to  stamp  them  out 
a  Second  time,"  replied  Pan  Adam. 

Wrabina  is  Polish  for  ladder. 


fo  PAN    MICHAEL. 

As  he  said  this  he  assumed  the  expression  of  a  terrible  Mars 
and  twisted  his  tiny  moustache  till  his  upper  lip  reddened. 

Basia,  who  had  very  sharp  eyes,  observed  this  at  once; 
therefore  pushing  back  her  chair  a  little  so  that  Pan  Adam 
might  not  see  her,  she  pretended  to  twist  her  moustache  in 
imitation  of  the  youthful  knight. 

Pan  Michael's  sister  gazed  at  her  with  threatening  eyes.,  but 
at  the  same  time  she  began  to  shake  and  with  difficulty  re- 
strained her  laughter.  Pan  Michael  bit  his  lips  and  Krysia 
lowered  her  eyes  till  her  long  lashes  cast  a  shadow  on  her 
cheeks. 

"You  are  a  young  man,"  said  Zagloba,  "for  an  experienced 
soldier." 

"I  am  twenty-two  years  old  and  I  have  served  my  country 
for  seven  years  continuously;  I  ran  away  to  the  field  from  the 
lowest  class  at  school  in  my  fifteenth  year,'"  he  replied. 

"He  knows  the  steppe,  and  how  to  find  his  way  through  the 
grass  and  fall  on  the  raiders  like  a  kite  on  a  partridge,"  added 
Pan  Michael,  "he  is  no  ordinary  warrior.  The  Tartar  cannot 
hide  from  his  eyes  in  the  steppes." 

Pan  Adam  blushed  with  pleasure  at  receiving  praise  from 
such  famous  lips  in  the  presence  of  ladies. 

He  was  not  merely  a  falcon  of  the  steppes,  but  a  handsome 
fellow  in  addition,  dark,  and  tanned  by  the  weather.  His 
face  was  seamed  by  a  scar  reaching  from  his  ear  to  his  nose 
which  was  thinner  on  one  side  in  consequence  of  the  cut.  He 
had  sharp  eyes,  accustomed  to  be  on  the  look-out,  with  very 
dark,  meeting  brows,  that  formed  a  kind  of  Tartar  bow.  His 
head,  close-cropped  at  the  sides,  was  surmounted  by  curly 
locks.  Both  his  address  and  bearing  pleased  Basia  and  never- 
theless she  did  not  cease  to  mimic  him. 

"It  is  pleasant  for  an  old  man  like  me  to  see  that  a  new 
generation  worthy  of  us  is  growing  up,"  said  Zagloba. 

<cNot  so  worthy,"  protested  Pan  Adam. 

"I  like  their  modesty  too.  We  shall  soon  see  you  in  com- 
mand." 

"That  has  happened  already!"  cried  Pan  Michael.  He  has 
been  in  command  and  gained  victories  by  himself." 

Pan  Adam  began  to  twist  his  moustache  so  vigorously  thnt 
he  almost  pulled  it  out.  And  Basia  kept  her  eyes  on  him 
end  also  lifted  her  hand  to  her  mouth  and  imitated  every 
motion. 

But  the  keen  soldier  quickly  noticed  that  the  eyes  of  the 


PAN    MICHAEL. 

whole  company  were  directed  beyond  him  where  the  y 
lady,  whom  he  had  sr<.-ji  on  the  ladder,  was  sitting,  and  he  at 
once  divined  that  it  must  be  on  account  of  something  con- 
nected with  himself. 

He  went  on  talking  as  if  he  had  not  noticed  it  and  played 
with  his  moustache  as  before.  At  last  he  selected  his  chance 
and  turned  round  so  suddenly  that  Basia  had  no  time  either 
to  turn  her  eyes  away  from  him  or  to  drop  her  hand.  She 
blushed  furiously  and,  scarcely  knowing  what  to  do,  rose 
from  her  seat.  A  moment  of  general  confusion  followed. 

"A  third  confusion!"  suddenly  cried  Basia  in  her  silvery 
tones. 

"Gracious  lady,"  said  Adam  vivaciously,  "I  saw  at  once  that 
there  was  something  going  on  behind  me.  I  must  confess 
that  I  am  anxious  to  have  a  moustache,  but  if  I  don't  get  one 
it  will  be  because  I  have  fallen  for  my  country,  and  in  that 
case  I  hope  I  shall  merit  the  tears  rather  than  the  laughter 
of  your  ladyship." 

Basia  stood  still  with  downcast  eyes  and  was  quite  abashed 
by  the  knight's  ingenuous  words. 

"You  must  pardon  her,"  said  Zagloba.  "She  is  wild,  be- 
cause she  is  young,  but  she  has  a  heart  of  gold." 

And  Basia,  as  if  in  confirmation  of  Zagloba's  words  at  once 
said  in  a  low  voice:  "I  beg  your  pardon  .  .  .  most  earnestly." 

Pan  Adam  immediately  caught  hold  of  her  hands  and 
began  to  kiss  them.  "For  God's  sake,  don't  take  it  to  heart! 
I  am  not  a  savage.  I  ought  to  beg  your  pardon  fcr  having 
spoiled  your  amusement.  We  soldiers  are  very  fond  of  joking 
ourselves.  Mea  culpal  I  will  kiss  these  little  hands  again 
and,  if  I  have  to  kiss  them  till  I  obtain  your  forgiveness,  for 
God's  sake  don't  forgive  me  till  the  evening!" 

"You  see  this  is  a  courteous  cavalier,  Basia!"  said  Pani 
Makovyetska. 

"I  see  he  is,"  Basia  answered. 

"It  is  all  right  now,"  cried  Pan  Adam. 

As  he  said  these  words  he  stood  upright  and  instinctively 
raised  his  hand  to  his  moustache,  but  suddenly  remembering: 
himself,  he  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh.  Basia  joined  him,  and 
the  rest  followed.  They  were  all  merry.  Zagloba  immedi- 
ately ordered  up  a  couple  of  bottles  from  Ketlin's  cellar,  and 
all  were  at  their  ease.  Pan  Adam  jingled  his  spurs  again. -t 
each  other,  passed  his  fingers  through  his  hair  and  gazed 
more  ardently  at  Basia  every  moment.  lie  was  immensely 


62  PAN    MICHAEL. 

taken  with  her.  He  became  very  eloquent;  and  as  he  had 
served  under  the  Hetnian,  lie  had  seen  the  world,  and  con- 
sequently had  something  to  talk  about. 

He  told  them  of  the  Diet  of  Convocation,  of  its  close,  and 
how  in  the  senate  the  stove  had  fallen  down  beneath  the  in- 
quisitive arbiters  to  the  great  amusement  of  everybody.  At 
last  after  dinner  he  went  away  with  his  eyes  and  heart  full  of 
Basia. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  same  day  the  little  knight  presented  himself  at  the 
Hetman's  quarters;  the  latter  gave  orders  to  admit  him  at 
once,  and  said  to  him: 

"I  must  send  Rushchyts  to  the  Crimea  to  see  what  is  going 
on  there,  and  induce  the  Khan  to  observe  the  treaties.  Do 
you  want  to  take  service  again  and  take  Ruehchyts'  command? 
You,  Vilchkovski,  Silnitski,  and  Pivo  will  keep  an  eye  on 
Dorosh,  and  the  Tartars  whom  it  is  never  possible  to  trust 
entirely. 

Pan  Michael  became,  sad.  He  had  devoted  the  flower  of 
his  life  to  military  service.  For  whole  decades  he  had  known 
no  rest;  his  life  had  been  passed  in  fire,  smoke,  toil,  sleep- 
lessness, and  hunger,  without  a  roof  to  cover  him,  or  a  hand- 
ful of  straw  to  lie  on.  His  sabre  had  shed  rivers  of  blood. 
He  had  neither  settled  down,  nor  married.  Men  not  one- 
hundredth  part  as  worthy  were  enjoying  the  sweets  of  re- 
ward, and  had  risen  to  honors,  position,  and  government.  He 
was  poorer  now  than  when  he  first  began  to  serve.  And  now 
they  wanted  to  use  him  again  like  an  old  broom.  His  heart 
was  sore  because,  just  as  he  has  f6und  kind  and  tender  hands 
to  dress  his  wounds,  he  receives  the  order  to  tear  himself  away 
and  betake  himself  to  the  wilderness,  to  the  distant  borders  of 
the  Commonwealth,  without  consideration  for  his  heart-wear- 
inese.  Had  it  not  been  for  interruptions  and  delays  and  all 
kinds  of  service  he  might  have  had  at  least  a  couple  of  years 
of  happiness  with  Anusia. 

As  he  thought  of  all  this  his  heart  was  filled  with  a  prent 
bitterness;  but,  as  he  did  not  think  it  befitting  for  a  knight 
to  extol  his  own  services,  he  simply  answered: 

"I  will  go." 

Upon  this  the  Hetma.n  said: 

"You  are  out  of  service,  you  can  refuse.  You  know  best 
whether  it  is  too  soon  for  you." 

To  which  Pan  Michael  replied: 

"It  is  not  too  soon  for  me  to  die." 

(63) 


64  PAK   MICHAEL. 

Pan  Sobieski  strode  up  and  down  the'  chamber  several  times 
and  at  last  halted  before  the  little  knight  and  laid  his  hand 
confidentially  on  his  shoulder. 

"If  your  tears  are  not  yet  dried,  the  wind  of  the  steppes 
will  dry  them  for  you.  All  your  life  you  have  toiled,  dear 
soldier,  toil  on  still!  And  should  you  ever  reflect  that  your 
services  are  not  remembered  nor  rewarded,  that  you  are  not 
permitted  to  rest,  'for  buttered  toast  you  have  received  a  crust, 
for  a  governorship  wounds  and  for  rest  suffering,  set  your 
teeth  and  say  to  yourself,  'For  thee,  my  country!'  Other  con- 
solation have  I  none;  but,  though  no  priest,  I  can  assure  that 
by  so  doing  you  will  go  farther  on  a  worn  saddle  than  others 
in  a  coach  and  six,  and  that  gates  will  be  opened  to  you  tha* 
are  closed  to  them." 

"For  thee,  my  country!"  said  Pan  Michael  in  his  heart, 
while  marvelling  that  the  Hetman  had  so  readily  divined  his 
thoughts. 

Pan  Sobieski  took  a  seat  before  him  and  continued: 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you  now  not  as  a  subordinate,  but  as 
a  friend, — nay,  as  a  father  to  his  son.  When  we  were  undetr 
fire  at  Podhayets  and  earlier,  in  the  Ukraine,  when  we  wert 
scarcely  able  to  hold  our  own  against  the  foe,  here  at  home 
behind  our  backs  wicked  men  were  wrangling  over  their  own 
selfish  ends  in  safety.  Even  in  those  days,  more  than  once  I 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  Commonwealth  must  perish. 
Excess  overbears  order  and  the  public  good  is  too  often  sacri- 
ficed for  self-interest.  .  -  .  This  has  never  happened  any- 
where else  to  such  an  extent.  .  .  These  thoughts  consumed 
me  by  day  in  the  field  and  by  night  in  the  tent,  for  I  said  to 
myself:  'No,  it  is  true  that  we  soldiers  are  in  an  evil  case,  but 
it  is  our  duty  and  our  portion.  If  only  we  were  sure  that  sal- 
vation also  accompanies  the  blood  that  flows  from  our 
wounds!'  But  we  had  not  even  that  consolation.  Ah!  I 
passed  many  a  heavy  day  in  Podhayets,  though  I  exhibited  a 
cheerful  countenance  to  you  officers  lest  you  should  think  that 
I  despaired  of  victory  in  ihe  field.  I  thought,  'There  are  no 
men  that  really  love  the  country,  none!'  And  it  hurt  me  as 
though  a  knife  had  been  plunged  into  my  heart.  One  day, 
however,  the  last  at  Podhayets,  when  I  sent  you  with  two 
thousand  against  twenty-six  thousand  of  the  horde,  and  you 
all  sprang  to  apparent  death,  to  certain  slaughter,  with  such 
shouting  and  gladness  as  though  you  were  going  to  a  wed- 
ding, suddenly  the  thought  struck  me,  'Ah,  these  warriors 


PAN    MICHAEL.  65 

are  mine!'  and  in  an  instant  God  rolled  away  the  stone  from 
11  iv  1 1  part  and  everything  was  clear  to  my  eyes.  I  said  to  my- 
self, 'These  are  facing  death  out  of  pure  love  for  their  mother 
country;  they  will  not  join  themselves  to  confederacies  or 
traitors.  Of  these  I  will  form  a  sacred  brotherhood,  a  school 
in  which  the  younger  generation  shall  learn.  Their  example 
will  have  influence  and  by  their  means  this  ill-fated  people 
shall  be  regenerated  and  shall  put  away  selfishness  and  forget 
excess  and  be  as  a  lion  that  feels  a  marvellous  strength  in  his 
limbs  and  astonish  the  world!7 '' 

Here  Sobieski's  f'ace  flamed  and  he  raised  his  head,  which 
was  like  that  of  a  Koman  Caesar,  and  extending  his  hands,  he 
cried:  "0  Lord!  write  not  'Mene,  Menfe,  Tekel,  Peres!'  on 
our  wall  and  permit  me  to  regenerate  my  country!" 

A  moment's  silence  followed. 

Pan  Michael  sat  with  bowed  head  and  felt  his  whole  body 
quivering. 

The  Hetman  strode  rapidly  up  and  down  the  room  for  some 
time,  and  at  last  halted  before  the  little  knight. 

"\Ve  need  examples,"  he  cried,  "examples  every  day  to 
strike  the  attention.  Michael!  I  have  counted  you  in  the  first 
rank  of  the  brotherhood.  Do  you  desire  to  belong  to  it?" 

The  little  knight  arose  and  clasped  the  Hctman's  knees. 

"See,"  he  cried  in  tones  of  emotion,  "when  I  heard  that  I 
must  march  again  I  felt  myself  wronged  and  that  I  was  en- 
titled to  some  leisure  for  the  indulgence  of  my  sorrow;  but 
now  I  see  that  I  sinned,  and,  .  .  .  and,  ...  I  repent  of  my 
thoughts  and  can  find  no  words,  for  I  am  ashamed.  .  .  . 

The  Hetman  pressed  Pan  Michael  to  his  heart  in  silence. 
"There  is  only  a  handful  of  us,"  he  said,  "bu-t  others  will 
follow  our  example." 

"Where  am  I  to  go?"  asked  the  little  knight.  "I  could  even 
go  1o  the  Crimea,  for  I  have  already  been  there." 

"No,"  the  Hetman  answered,  "I  will  send  Pan  RushchyU 
to  the  Crimea.  He  has  relations  there  and  even  namesakes, 
cousins  who  were  captured  by  the  horde  when  young  and  have 
l)opmu o1  Mussulmans  and  risen  to  office  among  the  Infidels. 
They  will  give  him  aid  of  all  kinds.  Besides  I  need  you  in 
the  field;  there  is  not  your  equal  in  handling  the  Tartars." 

"When  shall  I  go?'" 

"In  two  weeks  at  farthest.    I  have  .yet  to  confer  with  the 
Vice-Chancellor  and  Sul)-Tro:i?nror  of  the  kingdom  and  get 
*.ho  li'ttcrs  and  in^i  rue!  inns  roudy  for  Rushchyts.    But  be  pre- 
'.  for  I  shall  be  urgent." 
5 


66  PAX   MICHAEL. 

"To-morrow  I  shall  be  ready." 

"God  reward  you  for  the  willingness,  but  so  soon  is  need- 
less. Moreover  you  will  not  be  away  long,  for  if  peace  only 
lasts,  I  shall  need  you  in  Warsaw  during  the  election.  You 
have  heard  of  the  various  candidates.  What  is  said  of  them 
among  the  nobles  ?" 

"I  have  not  long  been  out  of  the  cloister  and  there  worldly 
matters  are  not  discussed.  I  only  know  what  I  have  heard 
from  Pan  Zagloba." 

"True:  I  can  get  information  from  him;  he  has  an  etxtensive 
acquaintance  among  the  nobles:  but  whom  are  you  thinking 
of  voting  for?" 

"I  do  not  know  myself;  but  I  think  that  we  need  a  war- 
rior king." 

"Yes,  yes!  I  also  have  such  a  man  in  mind:  one  whose 
name  alone  would  strike  terror  into  our  neighbors.  We  need 
a  warrior-king  such  as  Stefan  Batory  was.  But  farewell,  little 
soldier!  .  .  .  We  need  a  warrior-king.  .  .  Repeat  that  to 
everybody.  .  .  Farewell.  God  reward  you  for  your  readi- 
ness! .  .  . 

Pan  Michael  took  his  leave  and  departed. 

He  meditated  along  the  road.  He  was  glad  that  he  had  a 
week  or  two  before  him,  for  Krysia's  friendship  and  consola- 
tion had  become  dear  to  him.  He  was  also  glad  to  think  that 
he  would  return  for  the  election  and  he  went  home  contented 
on  the  whole.  The  steppes  moreover  had  a  certain  charm  for 
him;  without  being  conscious  of  it  he  was  yearning  for  them. 
He  was  so  accustomed  to  those  limitless  stretches  on  which  the 
horseman  has  more  the  feeling  of  a  bird  than  a  man. 

"No,  I  will  go  to  those  limitless  tracts,  to  those  stanitsas 
and  dunes  to  taste  the  old  life  once  more,  to  campaign  again 
with  the  soldiers,  to  stand  sentinel  over  the  border  like  a 
crane  and  sport  among  the  grass  in  the  Spring.  .  .  No.  .  . 
*E  will  go,  I  will  go!" 

And  he  urged  his  horse  into  a  gallop,  as  he  felt  the  want 
of  rapid  motion  and  the  whistle  of  the  wind  in  his  ears.  It 
was  a  clear  and  dry  and  frosty  day.  The  ground  was  covered 
with  frozen  snow  which  crunched  under  the  horse  and  was 
thrown  off  in  balls  by  his  flying  hoofs.  Pan  Michael  went  so 
fast  that  his  attendant  on  an  inferior  mount  was  left  far 
behind. 

It  was  sunset;  the  last  light  was  in  the  sky  casting  violet  re- 
flections on  the  snowy  expanse.  Through  the  glow  the  first 


PAX   MICHAEL.  67 

twinkling  stars  were  coming  into  view  and  the  moon  hung 
like  a  silver  sickle.  The  road  was  deserted;  now  and  then  the 
knight  passed  an  occasional  carriage  and  galloped  on  without 
pause.  Not  till  Ketling's  house  came  into  sight  did  he  draw 
rein  and  allow  his  attendant  to  overtake  him. 

Suddenly  he  saw  a.  slender  form  approaching. 

It  was  Krysia. 

On  recognizing  her  Pan  Michael  at  once  dismounted,  hand- 
ed the  rein  to  his  attendant  and  hastened  towards  her  in  con- 
siderable surprise,  but  greater  pleasure  at  seeing  her. 

"Soldiers  say,"  he  said,  "that  at  twilight  supernatural  be- 
ings are  to  be  met  with  who  are  sometimes  of  good  omen  and 
sometimes  bad;  but  there  can  be  no  better  omen  for  me  than" 
meeting  you." 

"Pan  Adam  has  come,"  said  Krysia,  "and  is  with  Bashka 
and  Pani  Makovyetska.  I  slipped  out  on  purpose  to  meet  you 
as  I  was  anxious  to  hear  what  the  Hetman  had  to  say." 

Pan  Michael's  heart  was  touched  by  the  sincerity  of  the 
words.  He  gazed  into  her  eyes  and  asked,  "Are  you  really  so 
concerned  about  me?" 

"I  am,"  Krysia  answered  in  a  low  tone. 

Pan  Michael  could  not  take  his  eyes  off  her;  she  had  never 
looked  so  beautiful  to  him  before.  She  had  a  satin  hood  on 
her  head  and  white  swan's-down  surrounded  her  small  delicate 
face  on  which  the  moonlight  was  falling,  shining  softly  on  her 
noble  brows,  downcast  eyes,  long  lashes,  and  the  dark,  almost 
invisible  down  on  her  lip.  There  was  an  expression  about  it 
of  calmness  and  extreme  purity.  Pan  Michael  felt  how  friend- 
ly and  dear  it  was  to  him,  and  said: 

"If  it  were  not  for  the  attendant  behind,  I  should  fall  at 
your  feet  on  the  snow  in  gratitude." 

And  she  answered : 

"Sir,  do  not  say  such  things,  for  I  am  unworthy  of  them, 
but  reward  me  by  saying  that  you  will  stay  with  us  and  that 
I  may  comfort  you  longer/'* 

"I  shall  not  stay,"  he  replied. 

Krysia  suddenly  halted. 

"That  cannot  be." 

"Military  service,  as  usual!  I  go  to  Russia  and  the  Steppes." 

"Military  service!"  Krysia  repeated. 

And  silently  pho  hastened  toward?  the  house.  Pan  Michael, 
somewhat  disturbed,  marched  quickly  at  her  side.  He  had  a 
dull  and  oppressed  sensation  in  his  mind.  He  wanted  to  say 


68  PA*    MICHAEL. 

something;  he  wanted  to  renew  the  conversation  and  did  not 
know  how  to  begin.  He  felt  that  tlu.»ru  were  a  thousand 
things  he  wanted  to  say  to  Krysia  and  now  was  the  time,  while 
they  were  alone,  and  no  one  in  the  way. 

"If  I  begin,"  he  reflected,  "I  shall  go  farther/'  so  he  sud- 
denly asked: 

i'Has  Pan  Adam  been  here  long?" 

"Not  long." 

And  again  the  conversation  ceased. 

"That's  not  the  way,"  thought  Pan  Michael,  "I  shall  never 
say  anything  so  long  as  I  commence  in  that  manner.  It  is 
evident  that  sorrow  has  consumed  my  few  remaining  wits." 

And  he  marched  on  in  silence,  his  lips  working  nervously. 
As  they  reached  the  door  he  stopped  and  said:  "Think!  if  I 
deferred  my  happiness  for  so  many  years,  it  was  to  serve  my 
country,  so  how  can  I  now  refuse  to  neglect  my  own  comfort  ?" 

Pan  Michael  thought  that  such  a  plain  argument  would  at 
once  convince  Krysia,  and  indeed  after  a  pause  she  answered 
sadly  and  sweetly: 

"The  better  one  knows  Pan  Michael  the  more  one  learns 
to  respect  and  honor  him." 

She  then  entered  the  house.  Bashka's  cries  of  "Allah, 
Allah!"  reached  them  in  the  hall,  and  when  they  entered  the 
salon  they  saw  Pan  Adam  in  the  middle  of  the  room  blind- 
folded and  bending  forward  with  outstretched  arms  trying  to 
catch  Bashka,  who  was  hiding  in  the  corners  and  revealing 
her  whereabouts  with  her  cries  of  "'Allah !"  Pani  Makovyetska 
was  near  the  window  engaged  in  conversation  with  Zagloba. 

The  entrance  of  Krysia  with  the  little  knight  interrupted 
the  game.  Pan  Adam  took  off  the  handkerchief  and  ran  to 
greet  Pan  Michael.  Immediately  after  came  Pani  Stolnikova, 
Zagloba,  and  the  breathless  Bashka. 

"What  is  it?  What  is  it?  WThat  did  the  Hetman  say?" 
they  all  asked  in  chorus. 

"Sister,"  replied  Pan  Michael,  "if  you  want  to  send  a  letter 
to  your  husband,  you  have  an  opportunity,  as  I  am  going  to 
Russia." 

"Is  he  sending  you?  By  the  living  God,  do  not  take  service 
yet,  do  not  go!"  cried  his  sister  in  piteous  tones.  "Will  they 
not  allow  you  even  a  moment's  rest?" 

"Is  your  command  already  appointed?"  asked  Zagloba, 
gloomily.  "The  lady-stolnik  is  right  in  saying  that  they  are 
threshing  you  as  with  flails!" 


PAX    Mll'UAEL.  69 

"Rushchyts  is  going  to  the  Crimea  and  I  take  his  squadron; 
for,  as  Pan  Novovyeyski  has  already  said,  the  roads  will  cer- 
tainly be  black  with  foes  in  the  Spring." 

"Are  we  to  be  the  only  ones  to  protect  this  Commonwealth 
from  thieves,  as  a  dog  guards  a  house?"  cried  Zagloba.  "Other 
men  don't  know  which  end  of  a  musket  to  fire  off,  but  there's 
no  rest  for  us."  , 

"No  matter!  I've  nothing  to  say,"  replied  Pan  Michael. 
"Duty  is  duty!  I  have  given  my  word  to  the  Hetman  that  I 
will  go,  and  a  little  sooner  or  later  makes  little  difference."  .  .  . 

Here  Pan  Michael  repeated  the  argument  he  had  used  with 
Krysia : 

"You  see,  ladies,  I  have  deferred  my  own  happiness  for  so 
many  years  to  serve  the  Commonwealth,  that  how  can  I  con- 
sistently refuse  to  resign  the  pleasure  I  find  in  your  com- 
pany?" 

Nobody  made  any  answer  to  this,  but  Bashka  approached 
him  with  her  lips  pouting  like  a  fretful  child  and  said: 

"I  am  sorry  for  Pan  Michael." 

Volodiyovski  laughed  merrily. 

"God  grant  you  good  fortune!  Only  yesterday  you  said  that 
von  could  endure  me  no  more  than  a  wild  Tartar." 

"A  Tartar!  What!  a  Tartar?  You  will  be  fighting  out 
there  against  the  Tartars  and  here  we  shall  be  lonely  without 
you." 

"Oh,  little  haiduk,  console  yourself  (forgive  my  calling  you 
by  that  name,  but  it  suits  you  wonderfully  well).  The  Het- 
man said  that  my  command  would  not  last  long.  I  shall  de- 
part in  a  week  or  so  and  must  be  back  in  Warsaw  for  the  elec- 
tion. The  Hetman  himself  desires  it,  and  I  shall  be  here  even 
though  Rushchyts  does  not  return  from  the  Crimea  in  May." 

"Oh,  that  is  delightful!" 

"I  will  accompany  the  colonel,  I  most  certainly  will,"  cried 
Pan  Novovyeyski,  with  a  swift  glance  at  Bashka;  and  she  re- 
plied: 

"There  will  be  many  like  you.  It  must  be  a  pleasure  to 
serve  under  such  a  commander.  Go,  go!  It  will  make  it  pleas- 
anter  for  Pan  Michael." 

The  young  man  only  sighed  and  passed  his  hand  across  his 
brow;  at  last,  stretching  out  his  arms  as  if  playing  hoodman 
blind,  he  said: 

"But  I  must  first  catch  Panna  Barbara!  I  certainly  must 
catch  her." 


70  PAN   MICHAEL. 

"Allah!  Allah!"  cried  Bashka,  retreating. 

Meanwhile  Krysia  approached  Pan  Michael  with  a  radiant 
and  joyous  face." 

"But  you  are  not  kind  to  me,  Pan  Michael;  you  are  kinder 
to  Bashka  than  to  me." 

"I,  not  kind!  I,  kinder  to  Bashka!"  asked  the  astonished 
knight. 

"You  told  Bashka  that  you  were  coming  back  for  the  elec- 
tion; if  I  had  known  that  I  should  not  have  taken  your  de- 
parture so  greatly  to  heart." 

"My  golden "  cried  Pan  Michael. 

But  immediately  he  checked  himself  and  said: 

"My  dear  friend,  I  told  you  little  because  I  had  lost  my 
head." 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

Pan  Michael  gradually  began  to  make  preparations  for  his 
departure;  however  he  did  not  cease  giving  lessons  to  Basia 
whom  he  liked  more  and  more,  nor  taking  solitary  walks  with 
Krysia,  seeking  solace  in  her  society.  Moreover  he  seemed 
to  find  it,  for  he  daily  recovered  good  spirits  and  in  the  even- 
ings he  would  even  join  Basia  and  Pan  Adam  in  their  games. 

The  latter  became  a  welcome  guest.  He  came  in  the  morn- 
ing or  at  noon  and  stayed  till  night;  as  everybody  liked  him 
they  were  glad  to  see  him,  and  very  soon  began  to  regard  him 
as  one  of  the  family.  He  accompanied  the  ladies  to  Warsaw, 
left  their  orders  at  the  mercers',  and  in  the  evening  played 
with  them  at  hoodman-blind  and  patience,  repeating  that 
he  must  certainly  catch  the  unattainable  Basia  before  his  de- 
parture. 

But  she  laughed  and  always  escaped  him,  though  Zagloba 
said  to  her:  "If  he  does  not  finally  catch  you,  someone  else 
will." 

It  became  more  and  more  evident  that  he  himself  had  de- 
termined to  catch  her.  This  must  have  occurred  even  to  the 
haiduk  herself,  for  she  sometimes  fell  into  such  deep  thought 
that  her  locks  fell  into  her  eyes.  Pan  Zagloba  however,  had 
reasons  of  his  own  for  thinking  Pan  Adam  unsuitable.  One 
night  when  they  had  all  retired  he  knocked  at  the  little 
knight's  door. 

"I  am  sorry  that  we  must  part,"  he  began,  "so  I  came  to 
take  a  good  look  at  you:  God  only  knows  when  we  shall  see 
each  other  again." 

"I  shall  certainly  come  to  the  election,"  said  Pan  Michael, 
embracing  his  old  friend,  "and  I  will  tell  you  the  reason.  The 
Hetman  wants  to  have  present  as  many  men  as  possible  who 
are  beloved  of  the  Little  Knights  so  that  they  may  win  over 
the  nobles  for  his  candidate;  and  because — God  be  thanked — 
my  name  has  some  weight  in  the  brotherhood,  he  wants  me  to 
come  without  fail.  He  reckons  on  you  also." 

"Indeed!  he  is  trying  to  catch  me  with  a  big  net;  but  I  am 

(70 


MICHAEL. 

not  blind  and  though  I  am  rather  large  I  can  crawl  through 
any  mesh  in  it.     I  will  not  vote  for  a  Frenchman." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  he  would  want  absolute  dominion." 

"Conde  would  have  to  swear  to  the  pact  like  anyone  else; 
and  he  is  a  great  leader,  he  is  famous  for  warlike  deeds." 

"With  God's  help  we  shall  not  have  to  go  to  France  in 
search  of  a  leader.  Pan  Sobieski  himself  is  surely  not 
Conde's  inferior.  Think  Michael!  the  French  wear  stockings 
like  the  Swedes  and  so  of  course  like  them  they  keep  no  oaths. 
Charles  Gustavus  was  willing  to  take  an  oath  every  hour.  To 
them  taking  an  oath  or  cracking  a  nut  is  all  one.  What  is 
the  value  of  a  pact  when  a  man  is  not  honest?" 

"But  the  Commonwealth  is  in  need  of  defence.  Oh,  if 
Prince  Yercmy  were  only  alive!  We  would  elect  him  king 
unanimously." 

"His  son  is  alive,  and  the  same  blood." 

"But  not  the  same  courage.  It  is  pitiful  to  look  at  him, 
for  he  is  more  like  a  lackey  than  a  prince  of  such  noble  blood. 
If  only  the  times  were  different!  But  now  our  first  consider- 
ation must  be  the  good  of  the  country.  Pan  Yan  says  the 
same  thing.  I  will  do  as  the  Hetman  does,  for  I  believe  in 
his  devotion  to  the  Commonwealth  as  I  do  in  the  Gospels.'' 

"There  is  time  to  think  about  it.  It  is  too  bad  that  you 
have  to  go  now." 

"What  will  you  do?" 

""I  shall  go  to  Pan  Yan.  The  young  fellows  worry  me  at 
times,  but  when  I  stay  away  for  long  I  feel  lonely  without 
them." 

"If  war  follows  the  election  Pan  Yan  also  will  take  the 
field.  Who  knows?  you  may  do  so  yourself:  we  may  yet 
campaign  in  company  in  Eussia!  What  a  lot  of  good  and  evil 
you  and  I  have  passed  through  in  those  regions!" 

"True  indeed!  our  best  years  were  spent  there.  Sometimes 
the  desire  comes  over  me  to  visit  again  all  the  scenes  of  our 
triumphs." 

"Then  accompany  me  now.  We  shall  be  jolly  together.  In 
five  months  we  will  return  to  Ketling.  He  and  Pan  Yan  will 
be  here  then." 

"N"o  Michael!  this  is  not  the  time  for  me;  but  I  promise 
that  if  you  will  marry  some  landed  lady  in  Russia  I  will  come 
and  see  you  settle  down," 


PAN   MICHAEL.  73 

Pan  Michael  looked  somewhat  confused,  but  immediately 
answered: 

"How  should  I  be  thinking  of  marriage?  The  best  proof 
to  the  contrary  is  that  I  am  returning  to  active  service!" 

"That  is  what  troubles  me:  I  used  to  think  that  if  not  one 
it  would  be  another  woman.  Michael,  trust  in  God;  stay 
here;  where  will  you  find  a  better  chance  than  this  one.  Re- 
member that  the  day  will  come  when  you  will  say:  'Every- 
body else  has  'a  wife  and  children,  but  I  am  alone,  like 
Machek's  pear-tree,  standing  in  the  field/  And  grief  and  sad 
longings  will  take  possession  of  you.  If  you  had  married  that 
dear  dead  one,  if  she  had  left  children,  I  should  not  worry 
you,  I  should  have  something  on  which  to  spend  my  affections 
and  certain  hope  of  solace,  but  as  things  are  now  the  time 
must  come  when  you  will  look  around  for  a  close  companion 
in  vain  and  ask  yourself,  'Am  I  in  a  strange  land?' '' 

Pan  Michael  was  silently  meditating;  so  Zagloba  resumed 
his  discourse  while  sharply  scanning  his  features: 

"In  my  own  heart  at  first  I  chose  yonder  rosy  haiduk  for 
you:  in  the  first  place  she  is  gold,  and  not  a  mere  girl;  and  in 
the  second  there  have  never  yet  been  such  fierce  fighters  as 
you  would  give  to  the  world." 

"She  is  a  whirlwind;  besides,  Pan  Adam  wants  to  strike  fire 
with  her." 

"That's  just  it!  To?day  she  would  certainly  give  you  the 
preference,  for  she  is  in  love  with  your  fame;  but  when  you 
go  and  he  stays, — I  know  he  will  stay,  the  rascal!  because  war 
has  not  broken  out  yet, — who  can  say  what  may  happen?" 

Basia  is  a  whirlwind!  Let  Pan  Adam  take  her.  I  wish 
him  well,  for  he  is  a  brave  fellow." 

"Michael!"  cried  Zagloba,  bringing  his  hands  together, 
"think  what  an  offspring  you  would  have!" 

To  this  the  knight  simply  replied: 

"I  knew  two  brothers  Bal  whose  mother  was  also  a  Drohoy- 
ovski  and  they  were  splendid  soldiers!" 

"Ah'  I  was  expecting  that.  Is  that  the  way  the  wind 
blows?"  cried  Zagloba. 

Pan  Michael  was  greatly  confused;  at  length  he  exclaimed, 
"What's  that  you  say?  There  is  no  special  direction;  but 
when  I  was  thinking  of  Basia's  courage,  which  is  really  quite 
cavalier-like,  the  thought  of  Krysia  naturally  arose;  she  is 
more  womanly.  When  one  is  mentioned  the  other  naturally 
occurs  as  they  are  together." 


74  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"Well,  Well!  God  give  you  luck  with  Krysia,  though  as  he 
is  dear  to  me,  if  I  were  young  i  should  fall  desperately  in 
love  with  Basia.  In  war  time  you  would  have  no  need  to 
leave  her  at  home.  You  could  take  her  to  the  field  and  keep 
her  by  your  side.  Such  a  woman  would  be  good  to  have  in 
the  tent  and  even  when  it  came  to  fighting  she  could  use  a 
musket  with  one  hand.  And  she  is  good  and  upright.  Oh, 
my  haiduk,  my  darling  little  haiduk,  they  have  not  under- 
stood you  here  and  have  treated  you  ungratefully;  but  if  I 
were  some  three  score  years  younger  I  know  what  sort  of 
Pani  Zagloba  I  would  have  in  my  house." 

"I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  Basia." 

"It  is  not  a  question  of  finding  fault  with  her,  but  of  find- 
ing her  a  husband.  But  you  prefer  Krysia." 

"Krysia  is  my  friend." 

"Your  friend,  not  your  beloved?  That  must  be  because 
she  has  a  moustache.  I  am  your  friend,  so  is  Pan  Yan,  and 
so  is  Ketling.  You  have  no  need  of  a  man  for  a  friend,  but  a 
woman.  Acknowledge  it  frankly  to  yourself  and  do  not 
hoodwink  yourself.  Michael,  guard  against  a  friend  of  the 
fair  sex,  even  though  that  friend  has  a  moustache,  for  either 
you  will  betray  her  or  you  yourself  will  be  betrayed.  The 
Devil  never  sleeps  and  he  is  happy  to  sit  between  such  friends; 
as  witness  Adam  and  Eve,  who  were  friends  till  that  friend- 
ship became  a  bone  in  Adam's  throat." 

"Don't  do  anything  to  offend  Krysia,  I  won't  allow  that!" 

"God  guard  Krysia!  My  little  haiduk  has  no  superior,  but 
Krysia  is  a  good  girl  too.  I  have  nothing  at  all  to  say  against 
her,  but  I  say  this  to  you:  When  you  sit  beside  her  your  cheeks 
are  as  red  as  though  they  had  been  pinched,  you  twirl  your 
moustache,  your  hair  crisps  and  you  move  your  feet  and  stamp 
like  a  ring-dove;  all  of  which  are  signs  of  desire.  Talk  to 
somebody  else  of  friendship;  I  am  too  old  a  bird  for  that  kind 
of  talk." 

"So  old  that  you  see  things  that  don't  exist." 

"Would  that  I  were  mistaken!  Would  that  it  were  a 
question  of  my  haiduk!  Good-night  Michael!  Take  the 
haiduk;  the  haiduk  is  the  handsomer.  Take  the  haiduk;  take 
the  haiduk!" 

Zagloba  arose  and  departed. 

Pan  Michael  tossed  about  the  whole  night;  he  could  not 
sleep  for  disturbing  thoughts  kept  running  in  his  head. 
Krysia's  face  was  constantly  before  him  with  her  long-lashed 


PAN    MICHAEL.  75 

eyes  and  downy  lip.  Now  and  then  he  would  fall  into  a 
light  slumber  but  the  vision  remained.  When  he  woke  Zag- 
loba's  words  recurred  to  his  mind  and  he  reflected  how  rarely 
that  man's  judgment  was  at  fault.  Sometimes  between  sleep- 
ing and  waking  Basia's  rosy  face  glowed  before  his  eyes  and 
the  image  tranquillized  him;  but  Krysia  soon  supplanted  her. 
The  poor  knight  now  turns  to  the  wall  and  sees  her  eyes;  then 
stares  into  the  darkness  and  still  sees  them  and  in  them  a 
look  of  languor  and  allurement.  At  such  moments  those 
eyes  seem  to  be  closing  as  if  saying  'Thy  will  be  done'/  Pan 
Michael  sat  up  in  bed  and  crossed  himself.  Towards  morn- 
ing the  dream  entirely  took  flight  and  left  oppression  and  a 
bitter  taste  behind.  He  was  overcome  with  shame,  and  bit- 
terly began  to  reproach  himself  because  the  image  of  the  be- 
loved dead  was  not  before  him;  that  his  eyes,  heart  and  soul 
were  full  not  of  her  but  of  the  living.  He  felt  that  that  he 
had  sinned  against  the  memory  of  Anusia,  therefore  he  shook 
himself  a  couple  of  times,  and  springing  out  of  bed,  though  it 
was  still  dark,  he  began  to  say  his  morning  Paternoster. 

When  he  had  finished  he  put  his  hand  on  his  brow  and 
said: 

"I  must  go  away  as  soon  as  possible  and  at  once  curtail  this 
friendship,  for  it  may  be  that  Zagloba  is  right." 

He  then  went  down  to  breakfast  with  more  calm  and  cheer- 
fulness. After  breakfast  he  fenced  with  Basia  and  noticed 
for  the  first  time  how  undeniably  attractive  she  was,  her  di- 
lating nostrils  and  panting  breast  made  her  very  alluring.  He 
avoided  Krysia  who  noticed  it  and  gazed  at  him  in  surprise, 
but  he  would  not  meet  her  glance.  It  cut  him  to  the  heart 
to  do  it  but  he  persisted. 

After  dinner  he  went  out  with  Basia  to  the  storehouse  where 
Ketling  kept  another  collection  of  arms.  He  showed  her  the 
various  weapons  and  explained  their  use.  Then  they  shot  at 
a  tnrgct  with  Astrachan  bows. 

The  sport  delighted  Basia  who  grew  wilder  than  ever,  till 
Pani  Makovyetska.  had  to  reprove  her.  Thus  passed  'the  day. 
On  the  next  Pan  Michael  accompanied  Zagloba  to  the  Danil- 
ovich  Palace  in  Warsaw  to  learn  the  date  of  his  departure. 
In  the  evening  he  informed  the  ladies  that  he  would  certainly 
leave  in  a  week's  time. 

As  he  said  it  he  tried  to  use  a  careless  and  joyous  tone.  He 
did  not  even  glance  at  Krysia. 

The  troubled  girl  asked  various  questions,  to  which  he 


76  PAN   MICHAEL. 

made  polite  and  friendly  replies,  but  addressed  most  of  hip 
conversation  to  Basia. 

Thinking  that  this  was  the  result  of  his  advice,  Zagloba 
rubbed  his  hands  with  delight;  but  as. nothing  could  escape 
his  eye  he  observed  Krysia's  sadness. 

"She  has  changed,"  he  thought,  "she  has  visibly  changed. 
Well,  that's  nothing, — the  usual  way  with  fair  faces!  But 
Michael  has  altered  his  course  sooner  than  1  had  dared  to 
hope.  He  is  one  in  a  hundred:  he  always  was  a  tempest  in 
love  and  a  tempest  he  will  remain!" 

In  reality  Zagloba  had  a  kind  heart  and  was  sorry  for 
Krysia. 

"I  will  not  say  anything  to  her  directly,"  he  thought,  "but 
I  will  think  of  some  way  of  consoling  her." 

So  taking  advantage  of  the  privilege  of  age  and  white  hairs, 
he  went  to  her  after  supper  and  began  stroking  her  black, 
silky  hair.  She  sat  quite  still,  merely  raising  her  gentle  eyes 
to  his  face  in  surprise  at  his  tenderness,  but  feeling  grateful. 

That  night  at  Pan  Michael's  door  Zagloba  poked  him  in 
the  ribs  and  said: 

"Well!  No  one  can  beat  the  little  haiduk?" 

"A  delightful  kid,"  answered  Pan  Michael.  She  will  make 
as  much  noise  in  the  house  as  four  drummers, — a  regular 
drummer!" 

"A  drummer!  God  grant  that  she  may  accompany  your 
drum  as  soon  as  possible!" 

"Good-night!" 

"Good-night!  Wonderful  creatures,  those  fair  faces.  Have 
you  noticed  the  change  in  Krysia  since  you  have  paid  a  little 
attention  to  Basia." 

"No  .  .  .  I  have  not!"  said  the  little  knight. 

"As  if  she  had  had  a  fall." 

"Good-night!"  repeated  the  little  knight  and  hastily  en- 
tered his  room. 

Zagloba  had  somewhat  overreached  himself  in  his  confidence 
in  Pan  Michael's  fickleness  and  had  generally  been  maladroit 
in  commenting  on  the  alteration  in  Krysia,  for  the  little 
knight  suddenly  felt  as  though  somebody  had  seized  him  by 
the  throat. 

"And  this  is  the  way  I  requite  her  kindness  for  comforting 
me  like  a  sister  in  my  sorrow,"  he  said  to  himself.  "Well! 
what  wrong  have  I  done  her?"  he  exclaimed  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  "What  have  I  done?  I  have  neglected  her  for 


PAN   MICHAEL.  77 

three  days,  which  was  rude,  to  say  the  least.  I  have  slighted 
the  sweet  girl,  the  darling.  Because  she  tried  to  heal  my 
wounds  I  have  repaid  her  with  ingratitude  .  .  .  If  I  only 
knew,"  he  continued,  "how  to  keep  this  dangerous  friendship 
within  bounds  and  manage  to  avoid  giving  offence  at  the 
same  time!  but  evidently  my  wits  are  too  dull  for  such 
strategy." 

Pan  Michael  was  angry  with  himself  and  at  the  same  time 
he  was  seized  with  a  great  pity,  unconsciously  he  began  to 
regard  Krysia  in  the  light  of  a  beloved  and  injured  being. 
His  anger  with  himself  increased  every  moment. 

"I  am  a  barbarian,  a  regular  barbarian!"  he  exclaimed. 

And  Krysia  entirely  supplanted  Basia  in  his  heart.  "Let 
him  who  will  take  that  kid,  that  windmill,  thaf  rattletrap!"  he 
exclaimed,  "Pan  Adam  or  the  Devil,  it's  all  the  same  to  me!" 

His  anger  also  rose  against  Basia,  who  owed  her  nature  to 
God;  but  he  never  reflected  that  he  might  be  wronging  her 
by  his  anger  more  than  Krysia  by  his  studied  indifference. 

With  a  woman's  instinct  Krysia  at  once  detected  a  change 
in  Pan  Michael.  It  was  sad  and  bitter  for  her  when  the  little 
knight  seemed  to  avoid  her,  but  she  saw  at  once  that  some- 
thing must  be  settled  between  them  and  that  their  friendship 
could  not  continue  on  its  present  basis,  but  must  become 
something  far  deeper  or  come  entirely  to  an  end. 

She  was  therefore  assailed  by  an  alarm  that  increased  at 
the  thought  of  Pan  Michael's  approaching  departure.  So  far 
she  was  not  in  love  with  him.  She  had  no  knowledge  of  love 
as  yet,  but  her  heart  and  blood  were  rife  for  it. 

Perhaps  also  her  head  was  slightly  turned.  The  little 
knight  was  encircled  with  the  glory  of  the  first  soldier 
of  the  Commonwealth.  Every  knight  uttered  his  name 
with  respect.  His  sister  praised  him  to  the  skies;  the 
charm  of  misfortune  was  about  him;  and  moreover  the 
maiden,  dwelling  under  the  same  roof  with  him,  had  become 
accustomed  to  his  graces. 

It  was  the  nature  of  Krysia  to  crave  for  loVe,  and  so,  when 
for  the  last  few  days  Pan  Michael  had  treated  her  with  indif- 
ference, her  self-love  was  deeply  wounded;  but  as  she  had  a 
good  heart  she  determined  not  to  make  any  sign  of  anger  or 
annoyance,  but  to  win  him  with  kindness. 

This  was  the  more  easy  for  her,  as  the  next  day  Pan 
Michael's  manner  was  penitent  and  not  only  did  he  not  at- 
tempt to  avoid  her  glance,  but  gazed  into  her  eyes  as  though 


78  PAX    MICHAEL. 

desirous  of  saying,  "Yesterday  I  sinned  against  you;  to-day  I 
beg  your  forgiveness."  His  eyes  were  so  eloquent  that  under 
their  influence  her  face  flushed  and  she  became  more  disturbed 
with  a  presentiment  'that  something  of  importance  was  about 
to  occur.  In  fact  it  did  occur.  In  the  afternoon  Pani  Mako- 
vyetska  went  with  Basia  to  visit  a  relative  of  the  latter,  the 
wife  of  the  vice-chamberlain  of  Lemburg  who  was  staying  in 
Warsaw;  Krysia  feigned  a  headache  because  she  was  curious 
to  know  what  would  happen  between  herself  and  Pan  Michael 
if  left  alone. 

It  is  true  that  Zagloba  did  not  go  to  visit  the  vice-chamber- 
lain's wife,  but  he  was  in  the  habit  of  sleeping  for  a  couple  of 
hours  after  dinner,  as  he  'said  that  it  prevented  corpulency 
and  cleared  his  brain  for  the  evening;  so,  after  chatting  for  a 
time  he  got  up  to  retire.  Krysia's  heart  immediately  began 
to  beat  with  disquiet,  but  what  was  her  surprise  and  disap- 
pointment to  see  Pan  Michael  get  up  and  go  out  with  Zagloba. 

"He  will  soon  return,"  thought  Krysia.  And  taking  a 
small  drum,  she  commenced  to  embroider  on  it  the  crown  of 
a  gold  cap  for  Pan  Michael  to  take  away  with  him.  Every 
two  or  three  moments,  however,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  the 
Dantzig  clock  in  the  corner,  which  was  ticking  rhythmically. 

But  an  hour  passed,  and  another,  and  still  Pan  Michael  had 
not  returned.  Krysia  laid  the  drum  on  her  lap  and  mur- 
mured, crossing  her  hands  upon"  it,  "Before  he  makes  up  his 
mind  they  may  return  and  we  shall  not  have  had  any  conver- 
sation, or  Pan  Zagloba  may  wake." 

At  that  moment  she  felt  that  they  had  really  something  of 
importance  to  discuss  that  might  be  deferred  through  Pan 
Michael's  fault. 

However  at  last  she  heard  his  step  in  the  next  room.  "He 
is  wandering  about,"  she  said,  and  again  busied  herself  with 
her  embroidery. 

Pan  Michael  in  fact  was  wandering  about:  he  was  walking 
up  and  down  and  did  not  dare  to  go  in.  Meanwhile  the  sun 
was  reddening  and  nearing  its  setting. 

"Pan  Michael!"  Krysia  suddenly  cried. 

He  came  in  and  found  her  busy  with  her  needle.  "Did 
you  call?" 

"I  wanted  to  know  if  some  stranger  was  walking  about  the 
house.  I  have  been  here  alone  for  two  hours." 

The  little  knight  drew  up  a  chair  and  sat  on  the  edge. 

Some  time  passed  in  silence;  he   moved   his    feet   noisily 


PAN    MICHAEL.  jg 

under  the  table  and  his  lips  worked  nervously.  Krysia  sus- 
pended her  work  and  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face;  their  glances 
met  and  both  dropped  their  eyes  quickly. 

When  the  little  knight  again  looked  up  the  last  rays  of  the 
sun  were  falling  on  Krysia's  face  and  glorifying  it;  her  hair 
glittered  like  gold  in  the  glow. 

"You  are  going  in  a  couple  of  days?"  she  asked  in  scarcely 
audible  tones. 

"It  must  be." 

There  was  another  moment's  silence  and  then  Krysia  said: 
"I  have  thought  for  the  last  day  or  two  that  you  were  angry 
with  me." 

"On  my  life,"  cries  Pan  Michael,  "I  should  not  merit  your 
regard  if  I  had  been,  but  it  was  not  so." 

"What  was  the  matter?"  asked  Krysia  raising  her  eyes  to 
his. 

"I  want  to  speak  frankly,  for  I  think  that  frankness  is 
always  preferable  to  dissimulation;  but  I  can  never  tell  you 
how  much  comfort  you  have  poured  into  my  heart  and  how 
grateful  I  am." 

"God  grant  that  it  may  always  be  so!"  said  Krysia,  folding 
her  hands  over  the  drum. 

To  this  Pan  Michael  answered  very  sadly: 

"God  grant  it!  God  grant  it!  .  .  .  But  Pan  Zagloba  said  to 
me — I  am  confessing  to  you  as  to  a  priest — Pan  Zagloba  said 
that  friendship  with  fair  faces  is  a  dangerous  thing  for  it  may 
cover  a  warmer  sentiment,  as  ashes  conceal  fire.  I  thought 
that  perhaps  Pan  Zagloba  might  be  right.  Forgive  a  simple 
soldier,  another  would  have  solved  the  question  more  ably, 
but  my  heart  bleeds  for  having  grieved  you  these  last  few 
days  and  life  is  bitter  to  me." 

As  he  said  this  Pan  Michael's  moustache  began  to  work  like 
a  beetle's  feelers.  Krysia  bowed  her  head  and  presently  two 
tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks. 

"If  it  will  make  it  easier  for  you  I  will  hide  my  sisterly 
affection." 

Two  more  tears  appeared  upon  her  cheeks  and  then  two 
more. 

At  the  sight  of  them  Pan  Michael's  heart  was  completely 
rent;  he  sprang  to  Krysia's  side  and  seized  her  hands.  The 
drum  rolled  from  her  lap  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  but  the 
knight  paid  no  attention  to  it;  he  only  pressed  those  warm, 
soft,  velvety  hands  to  his  lips,  crving: 


g0  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"Do  not  weep.     For  God's  sake,  do  not  weep!" 

Pan  Michael  did  not  leave  off  kissing  her  hands  even  when 
Krysia  covered  her  face  with  them,  as  people  generally  do 
when  in  trouble,  but  kissed  them  the  more  ardently  till  his 
senses  became  intoxicated  with  the  warmth  of  her  hair  and 
brow  as  with  wine  and  he  lost  control  of  himself. 

Then  suddenly,  without  knowing  how  it  happened,  his  lips 
were  on  her  brow,  kissing  it  more  eagerly  still,  and  then  de- 
scended to  her  weeping  eyes  and  the  whole  world  seemed  to  be 
going  round.  The  next  moment  he  felt  the  tender  down  on 
her  lip  and  then  their  mouths  pressed  strongly  together  in  a 
long  kiss.  The  silence  of  the  room  was  only  broken  by  the 
loud  ticking  of  the  clock. 

Basia's  step  was  suddenly  heard  in  the  hall  with  her  child- 
like voice  crying: 

"Frost!  frost!  frost !" 

The  little  knight  sprang  away  from  Krysia  like  a  scared 
panther  from  his  prey  and  at  the  same  instant  Basia  rushed 
in  like  a  whirlwind,  still  repeating  her  cry  of  "Frost!  frost! 
frost!" 

Suddenly  she  stumbled  against  the  drum  lying  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  floor.  She  then  stopped  and  looked  from  the  drum 
at  Krysia  and  the  little  knight  in  turn,  saying: 

"What  is  this?     You  both  look  as  if  pierced  with  a  dart?" 

"Where  is  Auntie?7'  Krysia  asked  striving  to  speak  in 
quiet,  natural  tones  from  her  heaving  breast. 

"Auntie  is  getting  out  of  the  sleigh  by  degrees,"  answered 
Basia  in  an  equally  altered  tone. 

Her  nostrils  dilated  several  times.  Once  again  she  stared 
at  Krysia  and  Pan  Michael,  who  by  this  time  had  picked  up 
the  drum,  and  then  she  suddenly  left  the  salon. 

At  that  moment  Pani  Makovyetska  waddled  in;  Pan  Zag- 
loba  came  down  and  they  began  talking  about  the  wife  of  the 
vice-chamberlain  of  Lemburg. 

"I  did  not  know  that  she  was  Pan  Adam's  godmother," 
said  Pani  Makovyetska;  "he  must  have  confided  in  her,  for 
she  tormented  Basia  with  him  dreadfully." 

"But  what  did  Basia  say?"  asked  Zagloba. 

"Basia  said  to  the  vice-chamberlain's  wife:  'A  halter  for  a 
dog!  He  has  no  moustache  and  I  have  no  sense  and  no  one 
can  tell  which  will  first  get  what  is  wanting/  "' 

"I  knew  that  her  tongue  would  not  fail  her,  but  who  knows 
what  she  really  thinks?  Oh,  female  cunning!" 


PAN    MICHAEL.  8 1 

"Baeia  always  speaks  her  heart.  Besides  I  have  already 
told  you  that  she  has  not  met  with  her  fate  yet.  Krysia  has 
to  some  extent." 

"Auntie!"  Krysia  suddenly  cried. 

Further  conversation  was  here  interrupted  hy  the  servant 
who  announced  that  supper  was  on  the  tahle.  They  all  pro- 
ceeded  to  the  dining-room,  but  Basia  was  not  there. 

"Where  is  the  young  lady?"  Pani  Makovyetska  asked  the 
servant. 

"The  young  lady  is  in  the  stable.  I  told  her  that  supper 
was  ready;  she  said  'All  right!'  and  went  to  the  stable." 

"Has  anything  disagreeable  happened  to  her?  She  was  so 
gay!"  said  Pani  Makovyetska,  turning  to  Zagloba. 

The  little  knight,  whose  conscience  was  uneasy,  said: 

"I  will  go  and  fetch  her!" 

And  he  hastened  out. 

He  found  her  just  inside  the  stable  door,  sitting  on  a  bundle 
of  hay.  She  was  so  deep  in  thought  that  she  did  not  notice 
him  as  he  entered. 

"Panna  Barbara!"  said  the  little  knight,  bending  over  her. 

She  started  as  if  suddenly  roused  from  sleep  and  lifted  her 
eyes  in  which,  to  his  astonishment,  Pan  Michael  saw  two  tear 
drops  as  big  as  pearls. 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  what  is  the  matter?  You  are  weep- 
ing." 

"I  haven't  the  least  idea  of  doing  so,"  cried  Basia  springing 
to  her  feet,  "I  haven't  the  least  idea  of  it!  It's  from  the 
frost." 

She  laughed  gaily,  but  it  sounded  like  forced  merriment. 
Then,  to  distract  attention  from  herself,  she  pointed  to  the 
stall  containing  the  horse  given  to  Pan  Michael  by  the  Het- 
man  and  cried  with  animation: 

"You  say  it  is  impossible  to  ride  that  horse?  We  will  see 
about  that!" 

And  before  Pan  Michael  could  stop  her  she  had  darted  into 
the  stall  The  vicious  animal  began  to  plunge  and  rear  and 
set  its  ears  back. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  he  will  kill  you!"  cried  Pan  Michael 
springing  after  her. 

But  Basia  had  already  begun  to  stroke  the  horse  on  the 
shoulder,  saying:  "Let  him  kill  ...  let  him  kill  ...  let 
him  kill  ..." 

But  the  horse  turned  his  steaming  nostrils  towards  her  and 
whinnied  as  if  he  delighted  ifl  Her  fondling. 

T  "~" 


CHAPTER  X. 

All  the  nights  that  Pan  Michael  had  ever  spent  were  as 
nothing  compared  with  the  one  that  followed  that  jar  with. 
Krysia.  For  behold,  he  had  betrayed  the  memory  of  hii 
dead  betrothed  and  he  loved  that  memory.  He  had  deceived 
the  confidence  of  the  living,  abused  friendship,  contracted 
certain  obligations,  and  behaved  like  a  man  without  a  con- 
science. An  ordinary  soldier  would  have  thought  nothing 
of  a  kiss  like  that,  or  rather,  would  have  twisted  his  mous- 
tache at  the  remembrance,  but  Pan  Michael,  particularly 
since  Anusia's  death  was  as  scrupulous  as  are  all  men  with 
sorrowful  hearts  and  lacerated  souls.  What  was  he  to  do 
then?  How  should  he  act? 

There  were  only  a  few  days  left  now  before  his  departure 
and  that  would  put  an  end  to  everything.  But  was  it  right 
to  go  away  without  saying  a  word  to  Krysia  and  leave  her 
as  he  would  the  first  chambermaid  from  whom  he  might 
steal  a  kiss?  Pan  Michael's  noble  heart  trembled  at  the 
thought.  Even  now  in  his  mental  struggle  the  thought  of 
Krysia  filled  him  with  delight  and  the  memory  of  that  kiss 
thrilled  him  with  ecstasy.  He  was  enraged  with  himself,  but 
yet  he  could  not  help  that  delicious  feeling.  And  he  blamed 
himself  exclusively. 

"I  brought  Krysia  to  that/'  he  said  b'itterly;  "I  brought 
her  to  it  and  so  it  would  not  be  right  of  me  to  depart  with- 
out saying  a  word.  And  what  then?  Shall  I  propose  and 
go  away  engaged  to  her?" 

Here  he  saw  the  form  of  Anusia  standing  before  him  in 
white  robes  and  white  as  wax,  exactly  as  she  had  been  laid 
in  her  coffin. 

The  form  said:  "It  is  at  least  my  due  that  you  mourn 
and  bewail  me.  At  first  you  wanted  to  become  a  monk,  to 
sorrow  for  me  your  whole  life  long,  but  now  you  are  taking 
another  before  my  poor  soul  had  time  to  reach  the  gates  of 
Heaven  on  its  flight.  Ah!  wait,  first  let  me  reach  Heaven; 
let  me  cease  locking  backwards  to  the  earth.  .  ,  " 

(82) 


PAN    MICHAEL.  83 

And  the  knight  felt  that  he  was  forsworn  before  that  ra- 
diant spirit  whose  memory  he  -sought  to  honor  and  hold 
sacred.  He  was  overwhelmed  with  grief  and  boundless  shame 
and  self-contempt  and  he  longed  for  death. 

"Anusia,"  he  cried  as  he  knelt,  "I  shall  never  cease  mourn- 
ing for  thee  till  death;  but  what  must  I  do  now?' 

The  white  form  made  no  reply  as  it  faded  away  like  a 
white  mist;  and  in  its  place  his  imagination  conjured  up 
Krysia's  bright  eyes  and  downy  lip  and  with  them  returned 
the  temptations  which  the  poor  soldier  wanted  to  shake  off 
like  the  darts  of  a  Tartar. 

Thus  his  heart  was  drawn  in  opposite  directions  by  grief, 
anguish,  and  uncertainty.  Sometimes  he  was  prompted  to 
go  and  tell  Zagloba  everything  and  take  council  with  that 
man  whose  wis-dom  could  smooth  all  difficulties.  Moreover 
he  had  foreseen  it  all,  and  predicted  the  consequences  of 
forming  a  "friendship"  with  a  fair  face. 

But  that  very  consideration  hindered  him.  He  remem- 
bered how  sternly  he  had  said  to  Pan  Zagloba  "I  will  not 
have  Panna  Krysia  offended!"  And  now  who  had  offended 
her?  Who  was  the  one  to  think  "Is  it  not  best  to  leave  her 
like  a  chambermaid  and  go  away?" 

"Were  it  not  for  that  dear  one  above  I  should  not  hesitate 
for  a  moment,"  he  thought,  "I  should  not  be  at  all  troubled: 
on  the  contrary  my  heart  would  rejoice  that  I  had  tasted  such 
delight." 

Presently  he  murmured: 

"I  would  accept  it  a  hundred  times  over." 

Finding  however  that  temptations  were  thronging  in  on 
him  he  sternly  shook  them  off  and  began  to  reason  as  fol- 
lows: "That's  the  end  of  it.  Since  I  have  behaved  like  a 
man  who  does  not  want  friendship  but  the  pleasure  of  Cupid, 
I  must  continue  along  that  road  and  tell  Krysia  to-morrow 
that  I  wish  to  marry  her." 

Here  'he  ceased  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  proceeded 
to  argue  thus:  "By  that  declaration,  what  happened  to-day 
will  be  entirely  justified,  and  to-morrow  I  can  allow  my- 
self"— But  here  he  suddenly  struck  his  mouth  with  his  hand. 

"Whew!"  he  cried,  "It  seems  that  a  whole  chambul  of 
devils  are  sitting  at  my  back!" 

But  still  he  did  not  resign  his  project  of  declaring  him- 
self, but  merely  thought  "If  I  sin  against  my  dead  love  I 
can  make  reparation  with  masses  and  prayers;  and  this  will 


84  P&X   MICHAEL. 

also  prove  that  she  is  always  in  my  memory  and  that  my 
devotion  will  never  end.  11'  people  marvel  and  laugh  at  me 
because  two  weeks  ago  in  my  griel  1  wanted  to  take  the 
cowl  and  now  I  have  declared  my  love  for  another,  the 
shame  will  be  mine  alone.  If  I  do  not  declare  myself  the 
innocent  Krysia  will  be  made  to  share  my  shame  and  guilt." 

"I  will  propose  to  her  to-morrow;  it  must  be  so!"  he  said 
at  last. 

His  mind  then  became  much  more  tranquil  and  after  a 
Pater  and  an  earnest  prayer  for  Anusia  he  fell  asleep. 

When  he  awoke  in  the  morning  he  again  said  to  himself: 

"1  will  propose  to-day." 

But  it  was  not  such  a  simple  matter,  for  Pan  Michael 
did  not  want  the  others  to  know,  but  to  have  a  talk  with 
Krysia  first  and  then  act  accordingly. 

In  the  meantime  Pan  Adam  arrived  early  and  monopolized 
the  whole  house. 

Krysia  moved  about  as  if  she  had  been  poisoned;  the  whole 
morning  she  looked  pale  and  troubled,  from  time  to  time 
she  would  lower  her  eyes,  and  her  face  and  neck  would 
crimson,  and  then  again  her  lips  would  quiver  as  if  she 
were  ready  to  burst  into  tears  and  then  she  would  have  a 
dreamy  expression,  or  look  as  if  she  were  going  to  faint. 

The  knight  found  it  difficult  to  approach  her,  and  par- 
ticularly to  stay  long  by  her  side.  It  is  true  that  he  might 
have  taken  her  out  for  a  walk,  as  it  was  beautiful  weather, 
and  some  days  earlier  he  would  not  have  hesitated  to  do 
so,  but  now  he  did  not  dare,  for  he  imagined  that  everybody 
would  immediately  suspect  his  intention, — they  would  all 
think  that  he  was  about  to  propose. 

Pan  Adam  came  to  the  rescue.  He  took  Panni  Makovy- 
etska  aside  and  had  a  long  talk  with  her  on  some  subject  and 
then  both  returned  to  the  room  where  the  little  knight  was 
sitting  with  Pan  Zagloba  and  the  two  girls  and  she  said: 

"You  young  people  might  go  for  a  drive  two  and  two  in 
sleighs,  for  the  snow  is  crisp  and  bright." 

At  this  Pan  Michael  quickly  bent  down  his  'head  to  Kry- 
sia's  ear  and  said:  "I  beg  you  to  sit  with  me:  I  have  many 
things  to  say  to  you." 

"Very  well,"  answered  Krysia. 

The  two  men  hastened  to  the  stables,  followed  by  Bashka, 
and  in  the  space  of  a  couple  of  Paters  the  sleighs  were  driven 
up  to  the  door.  Pan  Michael  and  Krysia  took  their  seats 


PAN    MICHAEL,  $5 

in  one  and  Pan  Adam  and  the  little  haiduk  in  the  other,  and 
they  started  without  other  drivers. 

When  they  were  out  of  sight  Pani  Makovyetska  turned 
to  Zagloba  and  said,  "Pan  Adam  has  proposed  for  Bashka." 

"What  is  that?'7  cried  Zagloba  in  alarm. 

"His  godmother,  the  wife  of  the  vice-chamberlain  of  Lem- 
burg,  is  coming  here  to-morrow  to  have  a  talk  with  me;  Pan 
Adam  has  asked  my  permission  to  have  a  preliminary  under- 
standing with  Bashka,  for  he  quite  understands  that  unleSvS 
Bashka  is  favorable  to  his  suit  her  visit  will  be  labor  in 
vain." 

"That  was  why  you  sent  them  sleighing?" 

"Precisely.  My  husband  is  very  conscientious.  More  than 
once  he  has  said  to  me,  'I  will  be  the  guardian  of  their  prop- 
erty, but  let  them  choose  their  own  husbands,  if  they  choose 
worthy  men  I  will  make  no  opposition  even  in  the  face  of 
unequal  fortune.  Moreover  they  are  of  age  and  capable  of 
forming  their  own  opinions/  r' 

"But  what  answer  .are  you  thinking  of  giving  to  Pan 
Adam's  godmother?'3 

"My  husband  will  be  here  in  May.  I  will  turn  the  matter 
over  to  him;  but  this  is  what  I  think, — it  will  be  as  Bashka 
wishes." 

"Pan  Adam  is  only  a  boy!" 

"But  Michael  himself  says  that  he  is  a  famous  soldier 
already  celebrated  for  his  valorous  deeds.  He  possesses  a 
fair  fortune  and  his  godmother  has  enumerated  to  me  all 
his  connections.  You  see  it  is  this  way:  his  great-grand- 
father was  the  son  of  Princess  Senyut;  he  was  first  married 
to.  ...  » 

"What  do  I  care  about  his  relations!"  cried  Zagloba  giving 
vent  to  his  ill-humor;  "he  is  neither  kith  nor  kin  to  me  and 
I  tell  you  that  I  have  intended  the  little  haiduk  for  Michael; 
for  if  among  all  the  maidens  who  walk  the  world  on  two 
feet  there  is  a  better  or  more  honest  one  than  she,  I  will 
henceforth  go  on  all  fours  like  a  bear." 

"Michael  is  not  thinking  of  anything  of  the  kind  as  yet; 
and  even  if  he  were,  he  is  more  attracted  by  Krysia.  Well, 
God,  whose  decrees  are  inscrutable,  will  decide  that." 

"But  if  that  smooth-faced  boy  is  sent  away  with  the  water- 
melon, I  shall  be  intoxicated  with  delight,"  added  Zagloba. 

In  the  meantime  the  fate  of  both  knights  hung  in  the 
balance.  For  some  time  Pan  Michael  could  not  find  a  word 
to  say;  at  length  he  turned  to  Krysia  and  said: 


86  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"Don't  think  me  a  light-minded  man,  01  anything  iri.  the 
nature  of  a  fop,  for  that  would  not  agree  with,  my  years." 

Krysia  made  no  reply. 

"Forgive  my  conduct  of  yesterday:  my  foealt  was  so  full 
of  grateful  tenderness  that  I  was  quite  unablu  io  control  my 
feelings.  My  sweet  lady,  my  adored  Krysia,  romember  what 
I  am;  I  am  a  simple  soldier  whose  whole  life  has  been  spent 
in  war.  Another  man  would  have  begun  with  a  ceremonious 
speech  and  then  passed  on  to  intimate  confidences;  but  I 
commenced  with  familiarity.  Kemember  also  that  if  a  fully 
trained  horse  will  occasionally  take  the  bit  in  his  teeth  and 
run  away  with  a  man,  'how  much  more  will  love,  whose  im- 
petuosity is  far  greater!  Love  carried  me  away  simply  be- 
cause you  are  so  dear  to  me.  My  darling  Krysia,  you.  are 
worthy  of  Castellans  and  Senators;  but  if  you  do  not  despise 
a  soldier,  who,  though  of  humble  rant,  has  served  his  coun- 
try not  ingloriously,  I  fall  at  your  feet  and  kiss  them,  and 
ask,  Will  you  accept  me?  Can  you  think  of  me  without 
disdain?" 

"Pan  Michael!  .  .  .  "  answered  Krysia,  'and  her  hand 
withdrew  from  her  muff  and  slid  into  the  knight's. 

"Do  you  agree?"  asked  Pan  Michael. 

"Yes!"  Krysia  answered;  "and  I  know  that  I  could  not 
find  a  more  honorable  man  in  all  Poland." 

"God  bless  you!  God  bless  you,  Krysia,  darling!"  cried  the 
knight  smothering  her  hand  with  kisses.  "No  greater  hap- 
piness could  befall  me.  Only  say  that  you  are  not  offended 
at  yesterday's  familiarity  so  that  my  mind  may  be  at  rest." 

"I  am  not  offended/'  she  said. 

"Oh  that  I  could  kiss  your  feet  in  this  sleigh!"  cried  Pan 
Michael. 

They  then  kept  silence  for  some  moments;  the  runners 
hummed  over  the  snow  and  lumps  of  it  flew  from  the  feet 
of  the  horses.  At  length  Pan  Michael  said,  "I  wonder  that 
you  love  me." 

"It  is  more  wonderful  how  you  came  to  love  me  so 
quickly,"  Krysia  replied. 

At  that  Pan  Michael's  face  became  very  grave  and  he  said : 
"It  may  appear  strange  to  you,  Krysia,  that  I  should  fall 
in  love  with  one  before  getting  over  my  grief  for  another, 
I  acknowledge  to  you,  as  my  father  confessor,  that  I  have 
been  wild  in  my  day;  but  all  that  has  changed  now.  I  have 
not  forgotten  that  dear  one  and  I  never  shall;  I  love  her 


PAN    MICHAEL.  87 

still,  and  if  you  knew  how  my  heart  grieves  within  me  for 
her  you  would  weep  for  me  also.     .    .    . 

Here  the  littlle  knight  was  so  affected  that  his  voice  failed 
him  and  perhaps  that  was  why  he  did  not  notice  that  Krysia 
did  not  seem  to  be  very  deely  impressed  with  his  words. 
Silence  again  fell  and  was  this  time  broken  by  the  lady. 
"I  will  endeavor  to  comfort  you  to  the  utmost  of  my 
power." 

"I  came  to  love  you  so  soon,"  said  the  little  knight,  ''be- 
cause you  began  to  heal  my  wounds  from  the  very  first  day. 
What  was  I  to  you?  Nothing  at  all!  But  you  began  imme- 
diately because  your  heart  had  compassion  on  an  unfortunate 
man.  Ah,  I  am  very  grateful  to  you,  very.  Those  who  do 
not  know  this  perhaps  will  reproach  me  for  wanting  to  be- 
come a  monk  in  November  and  then  preparing  fpr  marriage 
in  December.  Pan  Zagloba  will  be  the  first  to  make  sport 
of  me,  as  he  is  glad  of  any  opportunity  for  that,  and  particu- 
larly as  the  blame  is  mine  and  not  yours." 

Krysia  gazed  thoughtfully  at  the  sky  and  at  last  said: 
"Is  it  absolutely  necessary  to  tell  people  of  our  betrothal?" 
"What  do  you  mean?" 

"It  seems  that  you  are  going  away  in  a  day  or  two!" 
"However  much  against  my  will,  I  must  go." 
"I  am  in  mourning  for  my  father.    Why  should  we  expose 
ourselves  to  inquiring  eyes?     Let  us  keep  it  to  ourselves 
and  no  one  need  know  of  it  till  Pan  Michael  returns  from 
Eussia.    Do  you  agree?" 

"Then  I  must  not  say  anything  to  my  sister?" 
"I  will  tell  her  myself  after  Pan  Michael  has  departed. 
"And  Pan  Zagloba?" 

"Pan  Zagloba  would  whet  his  wit  upon  me.  Better  say 
nothing!  Bashka  would  also  tease  me,  and  lately  she  is 
so  capricious  and  her  moods  have  never  before  been  so 
changeable.  Better  be  silent!" 

Here  Krysia  raised  her  dark-blue  eyes  to  the  sky: 
"God  above  is  our  witness;  let  others  remain  in  ignorance." 
"I  see  that  your  wisdom  is  equal  to  your  beauty.    I  agree. 
Then  God  is  our  witness:    so  be  it!     Now  lean  against  me; 
for  modesty  permits  it  now  that  our  compact  is  made.    Fear 
not!  Even  if  I  wanted  to  repeat  yesterday's  behavior  I  could 
not  as  I  have  to  pay  attention  to  the  horse." 

Krysia  did  as  the  knight  desired  and  he  continued,  "When 
we  are  alone  call  me  by  my  name." 


88  PAN   MICHAEL. 

"It  sounds  so  strange/'  she  said,  smiling,  "I  shall  never 
have  the  courage." 

"But  I  have  dared  to  use  yours." 

"Because  Pan  Michael  is  a  knight.  Pan  Michael  is  bold. 
Pan  Michael  is  a  soldier!" 

"Krysia,  thou  art  my  beloved!" 

"Mich—." 

But  she  had  not  the  courage  to  finish,  and  buried  her  face 
in  her  muff. 

Presently  they  returned  home;  they  did  not  talk  much  on 
the  way,  but  at  the  gate  the  little  knight  again  asked: 

"But  after  yesterday's  .  .  .  you  know  .  .  .  were 
you  very  sad?" 

"Oh,  I  was  ashamed  and  miserable,  but  ...  I  had  such 
a  wonderful  feeling,"  she  added  in  lower  tones. 

They  assumed  an  air  of  indifference  so  that  nobody  should 
guess  what  had  passed  between  them. 

But  this  precaution  was  unnecessary  because  no  one  paid 
any  attention  to  them. 

It  is  true  that  Zagloba  and  Michael's  sister  ran  out  to  re- 
ceive them,  but  they  had  eyes  only  for  Bashka  and  Pan 
Adam. 

Bashka  was  crimson,  but  it  was  impossible  to  decide 
whether  from  cold  or  emotion,  and  Pan  Adam  looked  as  if 
poisoned.  Moreover  he  took  his  leave  immediately  after- 
wards. In  vain  did  the  lady  of  the  house  endeavor  to  de- 
tain him;  in  vain  also  did  Pan  Michael,  who  was  in  high 
spirits,  try  to  induce  him  to  stay  to  supper:  he  pleaded  duty 
as  an  excuse  and  departed.  Pan  Michael's  sister  immediately 
kissed  Basia  on  the  brow  without  uttering  a  word;  and  the 
maiden  fled  to  her  own  room  and  did  not  come  down  to 
supper. 

The  following  day  Zagloba  advanced  to  the  attack  and 
I  asked: 

'      "Well,  little  haiduk,  it  seerns  that  Pan  Adam  was  struck 
with  a  thunderbolt?" 

"Well!"  she  nodded  with  twinkling  eyes. 

"Tell  me  what  you  said  to  him." 

"The  question  was  direct,  for  he  is  a  bold  man,  and  so 
was  the  answer,  for  I  also  am  resolute.  No!" 

"You  behaved  beautifully!  Let  me  embrace  you!  What 
did  he  say?  Did  he  accept  his  defeat  easily?" 

"He  wanted  to  know  whether  time  would  noj:  do  some- 
thing for  him,  but  no,  no!  nothing  would  be  gained  by  it!" 


PAX   MICHAEL.  g9 

Here  Bashk&'s  nostrils  dilated  and  she  began  to  shake  her 
locks  sadly  as  if  meditating. 

"Give  me  your  reasons,"  said  Zagloba. 

''lie  also  wanted  to  know  them,  but  in  vain;  I  would  not 
tell  them  to  him  nor  to  any  man." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Zagloba  gazing  keenly  into  her  eyes,  "you 
have  some  concealed  love  in  your  heart.  Eh?" 

"A  fig!  No  love!"  she  cried.  Springing  to  her  feet  as  if 
in  an  attempt  to  conceal  her  confusion  she  began  to  repeat 
rapidly: 

"I  don't  want  Pan  Adam!  I  don't  want  Pan  Adam!  I  don't 
want  anybody?  Why  do  you  all  torment  me?" 

And  suddenly  she  burst  out  weeping. 

Zagloba  did  his  best  to  comfort  her,  but  she  was  touchy 
and  low-spirited  all  day.  "Michael!"  said  he  at  dinner,  "you 
are  going  away  and  Ketling  will  soon  arrive;  he  is  a  perfect 
Adonis.  I  don't  know  how  these  young  ladies  will  be  able  to 
resist  him,  and  I  expect  that  when  you  return  you  will  find 
them  both  hopelessly  in  love." 

"All  the  better  for  us!"  cried  Pan  Michael,  "we'll  throw 
Panna  Bashka  in  his  way." 

Bashka  looked  at  him  like  a  wild-cat  and  said:  "Why  are 
you  less  solicitous  about  Krysia?" 

The  little  knight  was  greatly  confused  at  her  question  and 
said:  "You  don't  know  Ketling's  power,  but  you  will  find  it 
out." 

"But  why  not  Krysia?    Besides  I  am  not  the  one  to  sing:" 

"  How  shall  a  fair  maid, 
Love's  raiders  evade? — 
Whom  turn  to  for  aid  ?" 

It  was  now  Krysia's  turn  to  be  confused,  but  the  little 
w;isp  proceeded:  "In  an  extremity  I  can  ask  Pan  Adam  to 
lend  me  his  shield;  but  when  you  are  gone  I  don't  know  how 
Krysia  will  dofond  herself  in  the  hour  of  danger." 

Pnn  Miphael  had  now  recovered  himself  and  replied  some- 
what harshly:  "Perhaps  she  will  succeed  better  than  you." 

"How  so?" 

"She  is  not  such  a  madcap  and  is  more  sedate  and  dio-- 
nified." 

Pan  Zagloba  and  the  little  knight's  sister  thought  that 
this  would  rouse  the  sharp  little  haiduk  to  battle  at  once; 
but  to  their  great  surprise  she  bowed  her  head  towards  her 
plate  and  after  a  pause,  snid  in  low  tone?:  "If  I  have 
offended  you  I  beg  your  pardon?  and  Krysia's," 


CHAPTER  XL 

As  Pan  Michael  had  permission  to  start  whenever  he  liked, 
he  went  to  Chenstohovo,  to  Anusia's  grave.  After  shedding 
there  his  last  tears  he  continued  his  journey,  and  the  more 
he  thought  ahout  it  the  more  convinced  he  was  that  his  secret 
engagement  to  Krysia  was  somewhat  precipitate.  He  felt  that 
in  grief  and  tears  there  is  something  sacred  that  should  be 
left  undisturbed  and  allowed  to  rise  heavenwards  like  a  vapor 
and  fade  into  limitless  space.  It  is  true  that  other  men  had 
married  within  a  month  or  two  of  losing  their  wives;  but  they 
had  not  commenced  with  the  Camedolian  monastery,  nor  had 
calamity  met  them  on  the  threshold  of  bliss  after  many  years 
of  waiting.  But  even  though  men  of  common  clay  pay  no  re- 
gard to  the  sacredness  of  sorrow,  is  that  any  reason  for  follow- 
ing their  example? 

Pan  Michael  then  took  his  way  to  Russia  and  self-reproach 
accompanied  him.  But  he  was  just  enough  to  shoulder  all 
the  blame  and  not  to  visit  any  of  it  upon  Krysia;  and  to  his 
other  anxieties  was  added  the  question  whether  Krysia  would 
not  in  the  depths  of  her  soul  think  ill  of  him  on  account  of 
his  precipitation- 

"Surely  she  would  not  act  so  were  she  in  my  place,"  he 
said  to  himself,  "being  of  an  exalted  nature  herself,  she  doubt- 
less expects  the  same  from  others." 

The  little  knight  was  afraid  lest  he  should  look  small  in 
her  eyes. 

But  his  fears  were  groundless.  Krysia  had  no  real  sym- 
pathy with  Pan  Michael's  mourning,  and  when  he  dwelt  on  it 
too  much,  instead  of  feeling  with  him  it  only  roused  her 
jealousy.  "Was  she,  the  living  woman,  not  of  equal  import- 
ance with  the  dead  one?  Or  was  she  of  i\o  more  value  than  to 
have  the  dead  Anusia  as  a  rival  ?  If  Zagloba  had  known  their 
secret  he  would  have  consoled  Pan  Michael  by  saying  that 
women  are  not  too  charitable  to  one  another." 

After  Pan  Michael  had  gone  Panna  Krysia  was  somewhat 
dismayed  on  thinking  over  what  had  happened  and  especially 

(90) 


PAN    MICHAEL.  gl 

that  she  was  bolird  in.  AY  ben  she  en  me  from  tlie  Ukraine  to 
Warsaw,  where  she  had  never  been  before,  she  had  imagined 
that  things  would  be  very  different.  The  retinues  of  bishops 
and  other  dignitaries  would  be  gathered  at  the  Diet  of  Con- 
vocation; and  a  brilliant  body  of  nobles  would  be  assembled 
from  every  corner  of  the  Commonwealth.  What  revels  and  re- 
views there  would  be!  what  life!  and  amid  the  whirl,  in  the 
noble  throng,  would  appear  some  unknown  lover,  some  knight 
such  as  exists  only  in  maidens'  dreams.  This  knight  would 
burn  with  love  and  haunt  her  window  with  a  cithera;  he  would . 
organize  gay  cavalcades,  love,  and  sigh  interminably,  wear 
his  lady's  colors  on  his  armor,  and  suffer  and  overcome  great 
obstacles  before  finally  falling  at  her  feet  and  gaining  re- 
sponsive love. 

But  nothing  of  all  this  had  happened.  The  rainbow-hued 
haze  of  fancy  faded  away;  a  knight  appeared,  it  is  true,  a 
knight  out  of  the  common  run  and  celebrated  as  the  first  sol- 
dier in  the  Commonwealth,  a  famous  warrior,  but  very  little, 
in  fact  not  at  all  resembling  the  knight  of  her  dreams. 
Neither  were  there  any  cavalcades,  nor  serenades,  nor  jousts, 
nor  parades,  nor  colors  worn  on  the  armor,  nor  stirring  life, 
nor  revels,  nor  anything  of  all  that  allures  like  a  May  dream, 
or  a  marvellous  tale  in  the  twilight  that  intoxicates  the  senses 
like  the  perfume  of  flowers,  and  attracts  as  a  bait  does  a  bird, 
making  the  face  flush,  the  heart  beat  faster,  and  the  body 
tremble.  There  was  nothing  but  a  modest  mansion  outside 
the  city;  in  it  Pan  Michael;  then  came  growing  intimacy,  and 
the  last  vestiges  of  the  dream  vanished  like  the  moon  when 
clouds  obscure  it.  If  only  Pan  Michael  had  appeared  last  in- 
stead of  first  he  would  have  been  the  one  looked  for.  Fre- 
quently when  she  dwe/lt  on  the  thought  of  his  fame,  his 
worthiness-,  and  his  valor,  which  made  him  the  glory  of  the 
Commonwealth  and  the  terror  of  its  foes,  Krysia  felt  that 
after  all  she  did  love  him  dearly;  only  it  seemed  to  her  that 
she  had  missed  something,  that  a  certain  injustice  had  been 
done  to  her  and  through  his  instrumentality,  or  rather 
through  his  precipitancy.  .  .  . 

This  precipitancy  had  lodged  in  the  heart  of  each  like  a 
grain  of  sand;  and  as  greater  and  greater  distance  was  placed 
between  them  this  grain  began  to  irritate. 

It  often  happens  that  people's  feelings  are  wounded  with  a 
matter  as  insignificant  as  a  tiny  thorn,  which  hurt,  with  the 
lapse  of  time,  is  either  healed  or  aggravated,  bringing  pain 


92  PAN   U\ 

and  bitterness  to  the  deepest  love.  But  in  this  instance  it 
was  still  a  long  way  to  pain  and  bitterness.  To  Pan  Michael 
the  thought  of  Krysia  brought  pleasure  and  solace,  and  the 
memory  of  her  followed  him  as  closely  as  his  shadow,  lie  also 
felt  that  the  farther  he  went  the  dearer  she  would  grow  to  his 
heart  and  the  more  he  would  sigh  and  long  for  her  presence.-. 
For  her  the  time  passed  more  heavily;  for  after  the  little 
knight's  departure,  there  were  no  visitors  at  Ketling's,  and 
day  succeeded  day  in  dullness  and  monotony. 

Pani  Stolnikova  counted  the  days  till  the  election,  awaiting 
her  husband's  arrival;  she  talked  only  of  him;  Basia  was 
scheming.  Zagloba  reproached  her,  saying  that  she  had  first 
rejected  Pan  Adam  and  was  now  wishing  him  back.  She 
would  in  fact  have  been  glad  to  see  even  him;  but  he  told 
himself  "There  is  nothing  there  for  me,"  .  .  and  he  soon 
followed  Pan  Michael.  Pan  Zagloba  also  was  making  prepa- 
rations to  return  to  Pan  Yan's,  saying  that  he  was  yearning 
to  see  his  boys  again.  Still,  being  lazy,  he  deferred  his  de- 
parture from  day  to  day,  explaining  to  Bashka  that  she  was 
the  cause  of  his  lingering,  that  he  was  in  love  with  her  and  in- 
tended to  seek  her  hand. 

Meanwhile  he  kept  Krysia.  company  when  Basia  and  Pan 
Michael's  sister  went  to  visit  the  wife  of  the  vice-chamberlain 
of  Lemburg.  Krysia  never  accompanied  them  on  those  visits, 
for  in  spite  of  that  lady's  estimable  qualities  she  could  not 
endure  Krysia.  Frequently  also  Zagloba  himself  went  to  War- 
saw, passed  his  time  in  pleasant  company,  and  more  than 
once  returned  intoxicated  on  the  following  day;  at  such  times 
Krysia  was  entirely  alone  and  spent  the  lagging  minutes  in 
thoughts  partly  of  Pan  Michael,  and  partly  of  what  might 
have  happened  if  the  latch  had  not  fallen  once  for  all,  and 
frequently  speculating  as  to  what  that  unknown  rival  of  Pan 
Michael's,  the  fairy  Prince,  would  have  been  like. 

One  day  Krysia  was  sitting  by  the  window  and  thought- 
fully gazing  at  the  door  of  the  room,  which  was  illumined  by 
a  bright  ray  of  the  setting  sun,  when  suddenly  a  sleigh-bell 
was  heard  outside.  Krysia  thought  that  Pani  Makovyetska 
and  Basia  must  have  returned  and  did  not  interrupt  her 
musings,  nor  even  turn  her  eyes  from  the  door.  Tn  a  moment 
it  opened,  and  beyond  its  frame  in  the  shadow  her  eyes  fell 
upon  a  stranger. 

For  the  first  few  moments  it  seemed  to  Krysia  that  she  was 
gazing  at  a  picture,  or  that  she  had  fallen  asleep  and  was 
dreaming,  so  wonderful  was  the  vision  before  her.  .  .  . 


PAK   MIC0AEL  93 

The  stranger  was  youthful,  dressed  in  some  black  foreign 
costume  with  a  white  lace  collar  falling  over  his  shoulders. 
Once  in  her  childhood  Krysia  had  seen  Fan  Artsishevski, 
general  of  the  royal  artillery,  dressed  in  a  similar  costume; 
he  had  remained  in  her  memory  on  account  of  the  costume 
as  well  as  his  unusual  beauty.  Now  the  youth  before  her  was 
similarly  costumed;  but  in  beauty  he  far  surpassed  Pan  Art- 
sishevski and  every  other  man  who  walked  the  earth.  II  • 
hair,  cut  straight  across  his  forehead,  fell  in  wonderful  shi 
ning  curls  on  each  side  of  his  face.  His  brows  were  dark  ami 
strongly  marked  on  a  forehead  as  white  as  marble;  he  had 
mild  and  melancholy  eyes;  a  tawny  moustache  and  a  pointed 
beard  of  the  same  hue.  .  It  was  a  matchless  head,  in  which 
nobility  and  manliness  were  united,  the  head  of  an  angel  and 
a  knight  at  the  same  time.  Krysia  suddenly  held  her  breath 
as  she  looked,  for  she  could  scarcely  believe  her  own  eyes,  nor 
could  she  make  up  her  mind  whether  she  was  gazing  on  an  il- 
lusion or  a  real  man.  For  a  moment  he  stood  motionless  in 
astonishment,  or  politely  pretending  to  be  astonished  at  the 
sight  of  Krysia's  loveliness;  at  length  he  entered  the  door  and 
bewail  to  sweep  the  floor  with  the  plumes  of  his  hat.  Krysia 
arose  with  trembling  limbs,  and  flushing  and  paling  alter- 
nately, she  closed  her  eyes. 

Meanwhile  his  soft  and  velvety  tones  were  heard: 

"I  am  Ketling  of  Elgin,  the  friend  and  companion-in-arms 
of  Pan  Volodiyovski.  The  servant  has  already  informed  me 
that  I  have  the  unspeakable  happiness  and  honor  to  receive 
under  my  roof  as  guests  the  sister  and  relatives  of  my  Pallas; 
but,  noble  lady,  pardon  my  confusion,  for  he  told  me  nothing 
of  what  my  eyes  behold  and  they  cannot  endure  the  bright- 
ness of  your  presence." 

Such  was  the  compliment  with  which  the  knightly  Ketling 
greeted  Krysia;  but  she  did  not  repay  him  in  kind,  for  she 
could  not  find  a  word  to  say.  She  only  thought  when  he  had 
ended  that  he  was  making  another  bow  because  through  the 
silence  she  heard  his  plumes  again  sweeping  the  floor.  She 
also  realized  that  it  was  exceedingly  necessary  for  her  to  make 
some  reply  and  give  back  compliment  for  compliment  or  she 
might  be  put  down  for  a  rustic;  but  her  breath  failed  her,  her 
temples  throbbed,  and  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  as  though  she 
were  in  great  distress.  She  opened  her  eyes  and  saw  him 
standing  before  her  with  head  slightly  bowed  and  his  won- 
derful face  full  of  admiration  and  respect.  With  trembling 


MICHAEL. 

hands  Krysia  took  hold  of  her  robe  to  make  a  courtesy  before 
the  cavalier,  when  at  that  moment  luckily,  shouts  of  "Ketling! 
Ketling!"  were  heard  in  the  hall  and  the  panting  Zagloba 
rushed  into  the  room  with  outstretched  arms. 

The  two  then  embraced  and  meanwhile  the  young  lady 
tried  to  recover  her  self-possession  and  take  a  glance  or  two 
at  the  knight.  He  embraced  Zagloba  warmly,  but  with  that 
rare  grace  in  every  movement  which  he  had  either  inherited 
from  his  ancestors,  or  acquired  in  the  brilliant  courts  of 
kings  and  rulers. 

"How  are  you?"  cried  Zagloba.  "I  am  as  delighted  to  see 
you  in  your  house  as  in  my  own.  Let  me  have  a  look  at  you! 
Why,  how  thin  you  have  grown!  Is  it  from  some  love-affair? 
By  God!  you  have  grown  thin.  Do  you  know  Michael  has 
joined  his  squadron?  Oh,  you  have  done  well  to  come! 
Michael  has  no  longer  any  thought  of  a  cloister.  His  sister 
is  staying  here  with  two  young  ladies, — maidens  like  peaches! 
One  is  Panna  Yezyorkovska  and  the  other  Panna  Droho- 
yovska.  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake,  Panna  Krysia  is  here!  I  beg 
pardon,  but  may  the  man  lose  his  eyes  who  would  deny  that 
either  of  you  is  beautiful;  this  cavalier  has  already  seen  it  for 
himself  in  your  case." 

Ketling  bowed  a  third  time  and  said  smiling: 

"I  left  the  house  a  barracks  and  I  find  it  an  Olympus,  for 
I  meet  a  goddess  on  the  threshold." 

"Ketling!  how  are  you?"  again  cried  Zagloba,  for  whom  one 
greeting  did  not  suffice,  and  he  again  embraced  him. 

"No  matter,  you  haven't  seen  the  little  haiduk  yet.  One  is 
a  beauty,  but  the  other  is  indeed  honey!  How  are  you  Ket- 
ling? God  give  you  good  health!  I  must  talk  to  you.  It  is 
you!  That  delights  this  old  fellow.  You  are  glad  of  your 
guests.  .  .  Pani  Makovyetska  came  here  because  it  was  so 
hard  to  find  lodgings  while  the  diet  was  being  held;  but  now 
it  is  easier  and  of  course  she  will  go,  for  it  is  not  well  for 
maidens  to  lodge  under  a  bachelor's  roof  lest  people  look 
askance  and  begin  to  chatter."  .  .  . 

"For  God's  sake!  I  will  never  allow  that!  To  Pan  Michael, 
I  am  a  brother  rather  than  a  friend;  and  I  may  surely  receive 
Pani  Makovyetska  as  a  sister  under  my  roof.  To  you,  young 
lady,  I  shall  turn  for  assistance,  and  if  necessary  will  implore 
it  here  on  my  knees." 

Thereupon  Ketling  fell  upon  his  knees  before  Krysia  and, 
seizing  her  hand,  pressed  it  to  his  lips  and  gazed  into  her  eyes 


PAN    MICHAEL.  95 

with  a  beseeching,  joyous,  and  at  the  same  time,  mournful 
expression.  She  began  to  blush  again,  especially  as  Zagloba 
immediately  cried: 

"He  has  hardly  arrived  before  he  is  on  his  knees  to  her. 
By  God!  I'll  tell  Pani  Makovyetska  that  I  found  you  so.  Sly 
Ketling!  ....  Krysia,  note  court  customs!" 

"I  am  ignorant  of  court  customs,"  the  lady  murmured  in 
confusion. 

"May  I  count  on  your  aid  ?"  asked  Ketling. 

"Rise,  sir." 

"May  I  count  on  your  aid?  I  am  Pan  Michael's  brother. 
To  abandon  this  house  will  be  doing  an  injury  to  him." 

"My  wishes  do  not  count  here,"  replied  Krysia  more  com- 
posedly, "but  I  cannot  help  being  grateful  for  yours." 

"I  thank  you!"  cried  Ketling,  pressing  her  hand  to  his  lips. 

"Ah!  there  is  frost  outside  and  Cupid  is  naked,  but  if  he 
stayed  here  he  would  not  freeze,"  cried  Zagloba,  _  "and  I  see 
there  will  be  a  thaw  from  sighs  alone, — from  sighs" alone!" 

"Give  us  peace!"  cried  Krysia. 

"Thank  God  you  have  not  lost  your  jovial  spirits,"  said 
Ketling,  "for  jollity  is  a  sure  sign  of  health." 

"And  a  clear  conscience,"  added  Zagloba,  "and  a  clear  con- 
science! 'The  sinner  showeth  a  sad  countenance,'  says  the 
Man  of  God.  I  have  nothing  to  trouble  me,  and  so  I  am 
joyous.  Oh,  a  hundred  Turks!  What  do  I  behold!  I  saw 
you  last  in  a  Polish  costume  and  sabre  and  leopard-skin  cap, 
and  now  you  have  become  some  kind  of  an  Englishman  and 
are  going  about  on  slender  legs  like  a  stork." 

"Because  I  have  been  for  some  time  in  Courland  where 
Polish  costume  is  not  worn  and  have  just  spent  two  days  with 
the  English  Minister  at  Warsaw." 

"Then  you  have  just  come  from  Courland?" 

"Yes!  The  relative  who  adopted  me  is  dead  and  has  left 
me  another  estate  there." 

"Eternal  rest  to  his  soul!  He  was  a  good  Catholic  of 
course?" 

"Yes!" 

"You  have  that  consolation  at  least.  But  you  will  not  cast 
us  off  for  this  estate  in  Courland?" 

"I  shall  live  and  die  here,"  Ketling  replied  with  a  glance  at 
Krysia  which  made  her  immediately  lower  her  long  lashes. 

"It  was  quite  dark  when  Pan  Makovyetska  arrived,  and 
Ketling  went  out  to  the  gate  to  receive  her.  He  conducted 


96  PAN    MICHAEL. 

the  lady  into  the  house  with  so  much  ceremony  that  she  might 
have  been  a  sovereign  princess.  She  wanted  to  seek  other 
quarters  the  next  day  within  the  city;  but  she  was  overruled. 
The  }roimg  knight  begged,  and  insisted  on  his  brotherly  af- 
fection for  Pan  Michael,  and  knelt  to  her  until  she  consented 
to  stay  on.  She  merely  stipulated  that  Pan  Zagloba  should 
also  remain  for  some  time  so  that  his  dignity  and  years  might 
be  a  protection  to  the  ladies  against  scandalmongers.  He 
willingly  consented,  for  he  had  become  fondly  attached  to  the 
little  haiduk  and  moreover  he  had  begun  to  form  certain 
plans,  for  the  success  of  which  his  presence  was  absolutely 
necessary.  The  young  ladies  were  both  glad,  and  Bada 
openly  took  Ketling's  part. 

"We  can't  move  out  to-day  anyhow,"  she  said  to  Pan 
Michael's  sister;  "and  if  not,  whether  we  stay  one  day  or 
twenty  makes  no  difference." 

She,  as  well  as  Krysia,  was  pleased  with  Ketling,  for  he 
pleased  all  women,  and  besides,  Basia  had  never  seen  a  for- 
eign cavalier  except  officers  of  foreign  infantry,  men  of  low 
rank  and  common  enough.  Therefore  she  hovered  about  him, 
shaking  her  locks,  dilating  her  nostrils  and  gazing  at  him  with 
childlike  curiosity;  so  noticeable  was  it  that  at  last  Pani 
Makovyetska  reproved  her.  But  notwithstanding  that  she 
did  not  cease  scrutinizing  him  as  if  trying  to  assess  his  mili- 
tary worth,  and  at  last  she  asked  Pan  Zagloba  in  a  whisper: 

*Ts  he  a  great  soldier?" 

"Yes!  It  would  be  impossible  to  be  more  famous.  You 
see,  he  has  had  great  experience,  for,  holding  fast  to  the  true 
faith,  he  served  against  the  English  rebels  from  his  fourteenth 
year.  He  is  also  of  noble  birth  as  you  can  easily  see  from  his 
manners." 

"Have  you  ever  seen  him  under  fire?" 

"A  thousand  times!  In  the  thick  of  the  fight  he  would  halt 
for  you  without  a  tremor,  pat  his  horse  on  the  shoulder,  and 
be  ready  to  talk  of  love." 

"Is  it  customary  to  talk  of  love  at  such  a  time?    Eh?" 

"It  is  usual  to  do  everything  by  which  a  contempt  for  bul- 
lets may  be  shown." 

"But  is  he  equally  great  hand  to  hand  in  a  duel?" 

"Yes,  ye?!  a  regular  wasp;  there's  no  denying  it." 

"But  could  he  withstand  Pan  Michael?" 

"Not  Pan  Michael!" 

"Ah!"   Basia   cried   proudly   and  joyously,  "I  knew  he 


PAN    MICHAEL.  97 

couldn't.    I  thought  at  once  he  couldn't."    And  she  began  to 
clap  her  hands. 

"So  then,  you  take  Pan  Michael's  part?"  asked  Zagloba. 

Basia  tossed  her  head  and  was  silent;  after  a  moment  a 
little  sigh  heaved  her  breast: 

"Well!  what  of  that?    I  am  glad  because  he  is  one  of  us." 

"But  remember  this  and  lay  it  carefully  to  heart,  little 
haiduck,"  continued  Zagloba,  "if  it  is  hard  to  find  a  better 
man  on  the  field  of  battle  than  Ketling,  he  is  still  more  dan- 
gerous where  women  are  concerned,  who  fall  madly  in  love 
with  his  graces.  He  is  a  past-master  in  love-making,  too!" 

"Tell  that  to  Krysia,  for  my  head  does  not  run  on  love," 
Basia  replied,  and  turning  towards  her,  she  began  to  call 
"Krysia,  Krysia!  Come  here  for  only  one  word." 

"I  am  here,"  said  Panna  Drohoyovska. 

"Pan  Zagloba  says  that  no  lady  ever  looks  on  Ketling  with- 
out immediately  falling  in  love  with  him.  I  have  examined 
him  from  every  aide  and  somehow  nothing  has  happened;  are 
you  touched?" 

"Bashka,  Bashka!"  cried  Krysia  imploringly. 

"Has  he  pleased  you,  eh?" 

"Spare  us!  be  a  good  child.  Basia,  dear,  don't  talk  non- 
sense, for  Ketling  is  coming." 

In  fact  Krysia  had  scarcely  sat  down  when  Ketling  ap- 
proached them  and  asked: 

"Is  it  permitted  to  join  the  company?" 

"We  beg  you  most  earnestly  to  do  so,"  Krysia  answered. 

"Then  may  I  venture  to  ask  what  you  were  talking  about?" 

"Love!"  cried  Basia  without  hesitation. 

"Kotiing  took  a  seat  beside  Krysia.  There  was  a  few  mo- 
ments' silence,  for  Krysia,  who  was  generally  so  self-pos- 
sessed, had  become  strangely  timid  in  the  presence  of  the 
cavalier;  therefore  he  was  the  first  co  a=>. 

"Is  it  true  that  the  subject  oi  c*iuiersation  was  such  r 
pleasant  an»?" 

"It  is,"  replied  Knrsia  in  a  low  tone. 

"I  shall  be  most  delighted  to  hear  your  ideas." 

"Excuse  IK,  i  aave  neither  the  courage  nor  the  wit,  so  I 
would  rather  get  some  new  light  from  you." 

"Krysia  is  right,"  exclaimed  Zn^loba,  "let  us  listen." 

"Ask  me  a  question,"  said  Ketlimr. 

And,  gazing  upwards,  he  meditated  for  a  little  while  and 
tlv*n,  although  no  one  had  questioned  him,  said,  as  if  to 
tniself: 
7 


MICHAEL. 

"To  love  is  a  terrible  misfortune;  for  through  love,  a  free 
man  becomes  a  captive.  Just  as  a  bird,,  pierced  by  an  arrow, 
falls  at  the  sportsman's  feet,  so  the  man  transpierced  by  love 
has  no  power  to  escape  from  the  feet  of  his  adored. 

"To  love  is  an  affliction;  for  a  man  is  blinded  by  it  and  can 
see  nothing  beyond  his  love.  To  love  is  to  mourn;  for  do  not 
the  tears  flow  and  deep  sighs  fill  the  breast?  When  a  man  is 
in  love  he  thinks  neither  of  dress  nor  of  sport;  he  prefers  to 
sit  with  his  hands  on  his  knees,  sighing  mournfully  as  if  he 
had  lost  a  beloved  friend.  Love  is  a  disease;  for  in  love  the 
face  likewise  grows  pale,  the  eyes  are  sunken,  the  hands 
tremble,  the  fingers  become  transparent,  and  the  mind  dwells 
on  death  or  goes  about  like  one  distracted,  with  unkempt 
hair,  talks  to  the  moon  and  takes  delight  in  writing  his  be- 
loved's name  on  the  sand,  and  if  the  wind  blows  it  away,  he 
cries  'miser/  .  .  .  and  begins  to  sob." 

Here  Ketling  became  silent;  he  seemed  lost  in  thought. 
Krysia  listened  to  his  words  with  her  whole  soul,  as  if  to  a 
song.  Her  lips  were  parted,  and  her  glance  never  left  the 
knight's  pale  face.  Basia's  hair  fell  over  her  eyes  and  veiled 
them  so  that  her  thoughts  could  not  be  read;  but  she  also  sat 
silent. 

Then  Zagloba  yawned  aloud,  drew  a  long  breath,  stretched 
out  his  legs,  and  said:  "Have  boots  made  for  dogs  out  of 
such  love." 

"But  yet/'  continued  the  knight,  "if  it  is  sad  to  love,  it  is 
sadder  still  not  to  love;  for  who  would  take  delight  in  pleasure, 
glory,  riches,  perfumes,  or  jewels  without  love  ?  .  .  Who 
would  not  say  to  the  beloved  one,  'I  choose  thee  above  a  king- 
dom, a  sceptre,  health,  or  long  life?  .  .  .  And  since  every- 
body would  willingly  give  life  in  exchange  for  love,  love  is  of 
more  value  than  life." 

Ketling  ended. 

The  young  ladies  nestled  closely  to  each  other,  wondering  at 
his  tender  speech  and  these  conceptions  of  love  uncommon 
in  Polish  cavaliers,  till  Zagloba,  who  was  napping,  woke,  and 
began  to  blink,  glancing  first  at  one  and  then  at  another,  until 
having  recovered  full  consciousness,  he  asked  loudly: 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"We  bid  you  good-night,"  said  Basia. 

"Ah,  now  I  know,  we  were  talking  about  love.  What  con- 
clusion did  we  come  to?" 

"That  the  lining  was  better  than  the  cloak." 

"There  is  no  use  in  denying  that  I  was  sleepy;  but 


JUICE  AJffE.  99 

loving,  weeping,  sighing — Ah,  I  have  still  another  rhyme  for 
it — nappiifg — and  at  present  the  most  appropriate,  for  the 
hour  is  late.  (Jood-night  to  everybody,  and  stop  talking  about 
your  love.  0,  my  God,  my  God,  while  the  cat  is  mewing  she 
will  not  eat  cheese;  but  her  mouth  waters  until  she  gets  it. 
In  my  time  I  resembled  Ketling  as  one  cup  resembles  another; 
and  I  was  eo  madly  in  love  that  a  ram  might  have  butted  my 
back  for  an  hour  before  I  should  have  noticed  it.  But  in  old 
age  I  prefer  to  rest  well,  especially  when  a  kind  host  not  only 
conducts  me  to  bed,  but  gives  me  a  night-cap  to  drink." 

"1  am  at  your  lordship's  service,"  said  Ketling. 

"Let  us  retire;  let  us  retire!  See  how  high  the  moon  is 
already.  To-morrow  will  "be  fine;  it  is  as  bright  and  clear  as 
daylight.  Ketling  would  talk  with  you  all  night  about  love; 
but  remember,  kids,  that  he  is  worn  with  travel." 

"Not  travel- worn,  for  I  rested  two  days  in  the  city.  I  am 
only  afraid  that  the  ladies  are  not  accustomed  to  staying  up 
at  night." 

"The  night  would  pass  quickly  if  we  listened  to  you,"  said 
Krysia. 

"There  is  no  night  where  the  sun  shines,"  Ketling  replied. 

Then  they  separated,  for  it  was  very  late.  The  young  ladies 
slept  in  the  same  room  and  usually  talked  long  before  going 
to  .sleep;  but  this  evening  Basia  could  not  understand  Kry- 
sia, for  the  one  was  just  as  anxious  to  be  silent  as  the  other 
was  to  talk,  and  would  only  reply  in  monosyllables.  Fre- 
quently, too,  when  Basia,  while  speaking  of  Ketling,  mim- 
icked and  laughed  at  him  a  little,  Krysia  embraced  her  very 
affectionately  and  begged  her  to  stop  her  jesting. 

"  He  is  our  host,  Basia,"  she  said,  "we  are  living  under  his 
roof;  and  I  noticed  that  he  fell  in  love  with  you  at  first  sight." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  asked  Basia. 

"Who  does  not  love  you?  Everybody  loves  you,  and  I — 
very  much."  .  -  .  . 

She  then  put  her  beautiful  face  against  Basia's,  nestled 
close  to  her,  and  kissed  her  on  the  eyes. 

At  length  they  sought  their  beds,  but  Krysia  could  not 
^Icep  for  a  long  time.  She  was  very  much  disturbed.  At 
times  her  heart  beat  so  violently  that  she  put  both  her  hands 
against  her  soft  breast  to  suppress  the  throbbing.  At  times, 
too,  especially  when  she  closed  her  eyes,  she  fancied  that  a 
face  beautiful  as  a  dream,  bent  over  her's  and  a  low  voice  whis- 
pered to  her: 

"I  would  rather  possess  tliee  than  a  kingdom,  or  a  sceptre, 
or  health,  or  long  years,  or  life  itself." 


CHAPTEE  XII. 

A  few  days  later  Zagloba  wrote  a  letter  to  Pan  Yan  which 
ended  thus: 

"If  I  do  not  return  before  the  election,  do  not  be  sur- 
prised. It  will  not  be  because  of  any  lack  of  interest  in 
you;  but  as  the  Devil  never  sleeps,  I  might  be  left  with 
something  useless  in  my  hand  instead  of  a  bird  which  I  do 
not  wish.  It  would  be  disastrous  if  when  Michael  returns, 
I  should  not  be  able  to  say  to  him,  'She  is  engaged,  and  the 
haiduk  is  free/  Everything  is  in  God's  hand;  but  I  think 
it  will  not  be  necessary  to  persuade  Michael,  nor  to  make 
extensive  preparations,  and  you  will  come  when  the  engage- 
ment is  made.  In  the  meantime,  bearing  Ulysses  in  mind, 
it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  be  diplomatic  and  give  color 
to  it  more  than  once,  which  is  not  easy  for  me,  since  all 
my  life  I  have  preferred  truth  to  everything  else  and  been 
glad  to  feed  upon  it.  However,  for  the  sake  of  Michael  and 
the  little  haiduk  I  will  take  this  upon  myself,  for  they  are 
pure  gold.  I  embrace  you  and  the  boys,  pressing  you  to  my 
heart  and  commending  you  to  the  Most  High  God/' 

Having  finished  writing,  Zagloba  sprinkled  sand  upon  the 
paper;  struck  it  with  his  hand,  read  it  through  again,  hold- 
ing it  at  arm's  length;  then,  he  folded  it,  took  the  signet  from 
his  finger,  moistened  it,  and  just  as  he  was  beginning  to  seal 
his  letter,  Ketling  entered. 

"Good-morning  to  your  lordship!" 

"Good-morning,  good-morning!"  said  Zagloba.  "Thanks 
to  God,  it  is  beautiful  weather,  and  I  am  just  about  to  send 
a  messenger  to  Pan  Yan." 

"Send  a  greeting  from  me." 

"I  have  already  done  so.  I  said  to  myself,  'I  oiiffht  to 
send  a  greeting  from  Ketling.  They  will  both  be  delighted 
to  receive  good  news/  It  is  certain  that  I  have  sent  a  mess- 
age from  you  since  I  have  written  a  whole  letter  about  you 
and  the  voung  ladies." 

"How  is  that?"  asked  Ketling. 
(100) 


PAN   MICHAEL.  IOI 

Zagloba  placed  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  tapped 
with  his  fingers;  then  lie  lowered  ,1ns  •li.-;'<i,  ;-nd  g#2irtg''  i'roni 
under  his  brows  at  Ketling,  said:  "Kc  tling  it  is  iib{  neces- 
sary to  be  a  prophet  to  know  'tli^t  lliut  -arid  _-s*<  '••!;  .dways 
produce  sparks  sooner  or  later.  You- are* '  af brilliant  "-spark, 
and  even  you  could  not  find  fault  with  the  young  ladies." 

Ketling  was  decidedly  confused. 

"I  should  have  to  be  blind  or  a  barbarian,"  he  said,  "if  I 
did  not  recognize  their  beauty,  and  bow  down  before  it." 

"But,"  contiued  Zagloba,  smiling  at  the  sight  of  Ketling's 
blushes,  "as  long  as  you  are  not  a  barbarian,  you  ought  not 
to  have  both  of  them  in  your  mind;  only  Turks  act  in  that 
way." 

"Do  you  suppose — ?" 

"I  suppose  nothing.  I  only  say  this  to  myself.  Ah, 
traitor!  you  have  talked  so  much  to  them  about  love  that 
Krysia's  lips  are  as  pale  this  third  day  as  if  she  had  taken 
drugs.  It  is  not  astonishing;  you  are  young.  When  I  was 
young  myself,  I  used  to  stand  out  in  the  cold  under  the 
window  of  a  certain  black-browed  beauty;  she  was  like  Kry- 
sia,  and  I  remember  how  I  used  to  sing. — 

"The  day's  work  is  ended,  fair  lady,  you  sleep 
As  playing  the  pipes  here  my  vigil  I  keep, 

Fa,  la ! " 

If  you  wish,  I  will  loan  you  this  song,  or  compose  a  new 
one  for  you,  for  I  have  genius  to  spare.  Have  you  noticed 
that  Panna  Krysia  reminds  one  slightly  of  Panna  Bellevich, 
except  that  Panna  Bellevich  has  hair  like  hemp  and  no 
down  upon  her  lip?  But  there  are  some  men  who  find 
superiority  in  that  and  think  it  a  rarity.  She  looks  at  you 
with  delight.  I  have  just  said  so  to  Pan  Yan.  Don't  you 
think  she  is  like  Panna  Bellevich  before  her  marriage?'1* 

"At  the  first  moment  I  did  not  notice  the  resemblance, 
but  it  may  be  so.  In  figure  and  height  she  suggests  her." 

"Now  hear  what  I  say.  I  am  telling  you  family  secrets; 
but,  as  you  are  a  friend,  you  ought  to  know  them.  Be  on 
your  guard  not  to  be  ungrateful  to  Pan  Michael,  for  Pani 
Makovyetska  and  I  have  destined  one  of  those  maidens  for 
him." 

Here  Zagloba  glanced  quickly  and  senrchingly  into  Ket- 
ling's eyes,  while  the  latter  turned  pale  and  asked: 

"Which  one?" 


102  PAN  MICHAEL 

"Pa D ne  Krysia/'  replied  Zagloba,  deliberately,  and,  protru- 
ding his  lower  ,li^,  lie  began  to  blink  with  his  sound  eye  from 
under  his  frowning  brow.  Ketling  was  silent  for  such  a 
long  while  that  finally  Zsagloba  asked  "What  do  you  say  to 
that?"  ' 

Then  Ketling  answered  in  altered  tones,  but  emphatically 
— "You  may  be  sure  that  I  will  not  indulge  my  feeling  to 
Michael's  detriment," 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"I  have  suffered  greatly  in  my  life;  I  give  my  knightly 
word  that  I  will  not  indulge  any  sentiment  to  Michael'i 
hurt." 

At  this  Zagloba  held  out  his  arms:  "Ketling,  indulge  any 
sentiment  you  like,  indulge  it,  poor  fellow,  to  your  heart's 
content,  for  I  only  wanted  to  try  you.  It  is  not  Panna 
Krysia  but  the  little  haiduk  whom  we  intend  for  Michael." 

Ketling's  face  grew  radiant  with  great  and  deep  joy,  and, 
clasping  Zagloba  in  his  arms,  he  held  him  in  a  long  embrace, 
and  at  length  asked : 

"Is  it  already  certain  that  they  love  one  another?' 

"Who  would  not  love  my  little  haiduk,  who  indeed?"  cried 
Zagloba. 

"Then  they  are  already  .betrothed?" 

"There  has  been  no  betrothal,  for  Michael  has  hardly  got 
over  his  mourning  yet;  but  there  will  be,  on  my  head  be 
it!  The  maiden,  though  she  is  as  hard  to  catch  as  a  weasel, 
is  very  fond  of  him,  for  with  her  the  sabre  is  the  foundation 
of  everything." 

"I  have  remarked  it!"  interrupted  the  beaming  Ketling. 

"Ah!  you  have  remarked  it!  Michael  is  still  mourning 
for  the  other;  but  if  anyone  can  please  him  it  is  certainly  the 
little  haiduk,  for  she  most  resembles  his  dead  love,  though 
she  is  not  so  striking  on  account  of  her  youth.  Everything 
is  going  well.  I  will  go  bail  that  these  two  weddings  will 
take  place  at  the  time  of  the  election." 

Ketling  again  embraced  Zagloba  without  saying  a  word 
and  laid  his  handsome  face  against  his  red  cheeks  till  the 
old  man  gasped  and  cried: 

"Has  Panna  Krysia  already  wormed  herself  into  your 
heart  like  that?" 

"I  know  not,  I  know  not!"  Ketling  replied,  "hut  this  I 
know:  scarcely  had  'her  heavenly  sight  enchanted  my  eyes 
when  I  told  myself  that  here  was  the  one  woman  whom  my 


PAN   MICHAEL.  IO3 

lacerated  heart  might  yet  love;  and  that  same  night  I  ban- 
ished sleep  with  my  sighs  and  gave  myself  up  to  delicious 
longings.  Thenceforth  she  absorbed  rny  entire  being  as  a 
queen  dominates  a  loyal  and  obedient  land.  I  know  not 
whether  this  be  love  or  something  else." 

"But  you  do  know  that  it  is  not  a  cap,  nor  three  yards  of 
cloth  for  a  pair  of  trunk-hose,  nor  a  saddle-girth,  nor  leg- 
gings, nor  an  omelette,  nor  a  pitcher  of  gorzalka.  If  you 
are  sure  of  this  then  ask  Krysia  about  the  rest;  or,  if  you 
like,  I  will  ask  her  myself." 

"Don't  do  that,"  said  Ketling  with  a  smile.  "If  I  am  to 
drown,  at  least  let  me  think  I  am  swimming,  if  only  for  a 
couple  of  days  more." 

"I  see  that  in  war  the  Scots  are  fine  fellows,  but  they  are 
of  no  use  in  love.  Boldness  and  impetuosity  are  needed 
with  women  as  with  foes.  'Veni,  vidi,  vici'  was  my  motto." 

"If  my  ardent  desires  are  to  be  fulfilled  the  time  may 
come  when  I  may  request  your  friendly  offices:  although  I  am 
naturalized  and  have  noble  blood  in  my  veins,  yet  my  name 
is  unknown  here  and  I  am  not  confident  that  Pani  Makovy- 
eteka— 

"Pani  Makovyetska?"  interrupted  Zagloba.  "Have  no 
fear  there.  Pani  Makovyetska  is  a  regular  musical  snuff- 
box; as  it  is  wound  up  so  it  plays.  I  will  get  at  her  at  once; 
I  must  prepare  her  you  know,  so  that  she  may  not  frown  on 
your  advances  to  the  lady.  As  your  Scotch  method  is  differ- 
ent to  ours  I  will  not  of  course  make  an  immediate  proposal 
in  your  name;  I  will  merely  say  that  you  are  attracted  by 
the  lady  and  it  would  be  well  if  that  flour  should  be  con- 
verted into  dough.  On  my  word,  I  will  go  at  once;  have 
no  fear,  for  in  any  case  I  have  a  right  to  say  what  I  please." 

And  although  Ketling  tried  to  detain  him,  Zagloba  got  up 
and  went  out. 

On  the  way  he  met  Basia  flying  along  as  usual,  and  said: 

"Are  you  aware  that  Krysia  has  entirely  captivated  Ket- 
ling?" 

"He's  not  the  first." 

"Aren't  you  displeased  about  it?" 

"Ketling  is  a  doll!  a  gay  companion,  but  still  a  doll!  I 
have  knocked  my  knee  against  the  shaft  of  the  carriage  and 
that's  what  troubles  me." 

And  Basia  bent  down  and  began  to  rub  her  knee,  still 
keeping  her  eyes  on  Zagloba,  who  said; 


I04  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"For  Heaven's  sake  be  careful!  Where  are  you  off  to 
now?" 

"To  Krysia." 

"What  is  she  doing?" 

"She?  For  some  time  now  she  has  kept  kissing  me  and 
rubbing  against  me  like  a  cat." 

"Don't  tell  that  she  has  made  a  conquest  of  Ketling." 

"Ah,  but  how  can  I  help  it?" 

Zagloba  was  perfectly  well  aware  that  Basia  would  not  be 
able  to  help  it  and  forbade  her  for  that  reason. 

He  therefore  continued  his  way  in  high  glee  at  his  own 
cunning,  and  Basia  burst  into  Krysia's  room  like  a  bomb. 

"I  have  hurt  my  knee;  and  Ketling  is  hopelessly  in  love 
with  you!"  she  cried  before  she  had  fairly  entered.  I  did 
not  see  the  shaft  sticking  out  of  the  coach-house  and  got 
such  a  knock.  It  made  me  see  stars,  but  never  mind  that! 
Pan  Zagloba  told  me  not  to  say  anything  to  you  about  Ket- 
ling. Did  I  not  tell  you  at  once  that  it  would  turn  out  so? 
And  you  talked  of  giving  him  to  me!  Never  fear;  I  know 
you — My  knee  is  still  rather  painful.  I  have  not  ceded  Pan 
Michael  to  you  but  Ketling,  oho!  Now  he  is  wandering  all 
over  the  place  mooning.  Well  done,  Krysia,  well  done! 
Scot,  Scot,  scat,  cat!" 

Here  Basia  began  to  point  her  finger  at  her  companion. 

"Basia!"  cried  Krysia. 

"Scot,  Scot,  cot,  cot!  (puss,  puss!)" 

"How  miserable  I  am!"  suddenly  exclaimed  Krysia  burst- 
ing into  tears. 

Then  Basia  tried  to  comfort  her,  but  in  vain,  for  she 
sobbed  as  she  never  had  before  in  all  her  life. 

In  fact  not  one  in  the  house  knew  how  unhappy  she 
really  was.  She  had  been  feverish  for  some  days  now;  her 
cheeks  had  lost  their  color,  her  eyes  had  become  sunken,  and 
her  breast  heaved  with  short  sighs.  Some  wonderful  change 
had  come  over  her;  she  seemed  to  have  failed  altogether, 
and  that  not  by  degrees  but  quite  suddenly.  It  had  fallen 
upon  her  like  a  cyclone  and  carried  her  away;  it  had  fired 
her  blood  like  a  flame  and  flashed  through  her  imagination 
like  lightning.  She  was  utterly  powerless  to  resist  this  feel- 
ing that  had  mastered  her  so  suddenly.  Tranquility  had 
deserted  her.  Her  will  was  like  a  bird  with  a  broken  wing. 

Krysia  herself  did  not  know  whether  she  loved  or  hated 
Ketling,  and  the  question  filled  her  with  infinite  dread.  But 


PAN  MICHAEL.  IO5 

she  felt  that  her  heart  beat  more  quickly  only  through  him; 
on  his  account  she  was  lost  in  thought;  she  was  completely 
absorbed  by  him, — and  did  not  attempt  to  steel  herself 
against  the  influence.  It  would  have  been  easier  for  her  not 
to  love  him  than  not  to  think  of  him;  for  her  eyes  were  glad- 
dened by  his  sight,  his  voice  made  her  deaf  to  all  else,  her 
whole  soul  was  engrossed  by  him.  Even  sleep  could  not 
banish  his  haunting  presence,  for  whenever  she  closed  her 
eyes,  his  head  bent  over  hers  and  she  heard  the  whisper — 
"I  would  rather  possess  thee  than  a  kingdom,  a  sceptre,  fame, 
or  wealth."  And  the  head  seemed  to  come  so  near  to  her 
that,  although  it  was  dark,  her  face  was  suffused  with  deep 
blushes.  She  was  a  hot-blooded  Russian;  strong  fires  flamed 
in  her  breast,  such  as  she  had  never  dreamed  of  before  and 
which  filled  her  with  fear  >and  shame,  and  a  weakness  ap- 
proaching faintness,  at  once  painful  and  agreeable.  Night 
brought  her  no  peace.  A  constantly  increasing  weariness 
took  possession  of  her,  as  if  produced  by  incessant  toil. 

"Krysial  Krysia!  what  is  the  matter  with  you?"  she  said 
to  herself. 

But  she  seemed  to  be  dazed  and  in  constant  agitation. 

Nothing  had  happened  yet,  nothing  at  all.  Up  to  this 
time  she  had  not  exchanged  two  words  with  Ketling  alone; 
but  the  thought  of  him  had  taken  entire  possession  of  her; 
and  an  instinctive  warning  voice  seemed  to  be  incessantly 
whispering:  "Take  care  of  yourself!  Avoid  him"  .  .  . 
And  she  avoided  him.  .  .  . 

Krysia  had  not  given  any  thought  to  her  engagement  with 
Pan  Michael,  which  was  fortunate;  she  had  not  paid  atten- 
tion to  it  because  as  yet  nothing  had  taken  place,  and  be- 
cause she  took  no  thought  of  herself  or  anyone  else  except 
Ketling. 

This  also  she  concealed  deep  in  her  heart;  and  the  belief 
that  no  one  suspected  what  she  was  experiencing,  that  no 
one  thought  of  her  in  connection  with  Ketling,  brought  her 
no  slight  comfort.  Suddenly  Basia's  words  revealed  to  her 
that  it  was  not  so, — that  people  were  observing  them,  as- 
sociating them  and  guessing  the  state  of  affairs.  And  this 
was  the  cause  of  her  disquietude,  her  shame  and  distress 
which  broke  down  her  will,  and  made  her  weep  like  a  little 
child. 

But  Basia's  words  were  only  the  prelude  to  further  in- 
sinuations, significant  glumes,  \\ -inks,  and  nods,  to  say  noth- 


I06  PAX   MICHAEL, 

ing  of  those  phrases  of  double-meaning,  which  she  had  to 
bear.  These  began  at  dinner. 

Pan  Michael's  sister  looked  from  Krysia  to  Ketling  and 
from  Ketling  to  Krysia,  a  thing  she  had  never  done  before. 
Pan  Zagloba  coughed  significantly.  Sometimes  there  was 
a  pause  in  the  conversation — nobody  knew  why,  and  a  deep 
silence  followed,  and  in  one  of  these  lulls  Basia,  whose  hair 
was  in  wild  disorder,  cried  out  in  the  hearing  of  everyone — • 

"I  know  something  that  I  won't  tell!" 

Krysia  blushed  furiously  and  then  suddenly  turned  pale, 
as  if  in  great  alarm;  Ketling  was  also  embarrassed.  Each 
felt  that  this  remark  had  reference  to  them,  and,  although 
they  studiously  avoided  talking  to  each  other  so  as  to  escape 
scrutiny,  they  knew  that  a  sentiment  was  springing  up  be- 
tween them  and  that  an  undefined  sympathy  was  gradually 
being  formed.  This  consciousness  at  once  united  and  kept 
them  apart,  for  it  destroyed  their  free  intercourse  and  they 
could  be  no  longer  ordinary  friends  to  each  other.  Happily 
no  one  took  any  notice  of  Basia's  words.  All  were  inter- 
ested in  Pan  Zagloba's  preparations  to  go  to  the  city  and  re- 
turn with  a  large  company  of  knights. 

Ketling's  cottage  was  brightly  lighted  that  evening;  about 
a  dozen  officers  were  present,  and  the  hospitable  host  pro- 
vided music  for  the  especial  entertainment  of  the  ladies.  Of 
course,  there  was  no  dancing,  for  it  was  Lent,  and,  besides, 
Ketling  was  in  mourning;  but  they  all  heard  the  music  and 
enjoyed  conversation.  The  ladies  were  beautifully  dressed. 
Michael's  sister  appeared  in  Oriental  silk.  The  little  haiduk 
was  attired  in  various  colors,  and  charmed  the  eyes  of  the 
officers  with  her  rosy  cheeks  and  shining  hair  which  would 
occasionally  fall  across  her  eyes;  her  blunt  words  aroused 
laughter  and  her  manners,  a  combination  of  Cossack  daring 
and  artlessness,  created  astonishment. 

Krysia,  who  was  now  out  of  mourning  for  her  father, 
wore  a  white  robe  trimmed  with  silver.  Some  of  the  knights 
compared  her  to  Juno,  others  to  Diana;  but  no  one  twisted 
his  moustache,  jingled  his  spurs,  or  ogled  her;  no  one  looked 
upon  her  with  sparkling  eyes  or  talked  to  her  about  love. 
Soon,  however,  she  began  to  notice  that  those  who  looked 
at  her  with  admiration  and  reverence  immediately  glanced 
at  Ketling;  while  others  on  approaching  him  seized  his  hand 
as  if  to  congratulate  him  and  give  him  their  good  wishes; 
and  that  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  spread  Ms  hands 


PAN   MICHAEL.  IO7 

as  if  in  deprecation.  Krysia,  who  was  naturally  observant 
and  penetrating,  felt  sure  that  they  were  speaking  to  him 
about  her,  and  that  they  looked  upon  her  as  his  betrothed; 
and,  as  she  did  not  know  that  Pan  Zagloba  had  whispered 
something  into  every  man's  ear,  she  was  at  a  loss  to  under- 
stand whence  these  suppositions  arose. 

-  "Is  there  anything  written  on  my  brow?'7  she  asked  herself 
anxiously.  She  was  distressed  and  ashamed. 

And  just  then  words  came  floating  to- her  on  the  air  as  if 
meant  for  her  but  still  audible:  "Lucky  Ketling!  .  .  . 
He  was  born  with  a  caul.  ...  No  wonder,  for  he  is  a 
handsome  fellow!  .  .  ."  and  similar  words. 

Other  courteous  cavaliers  in  an  attempt  to  please  her  and 
say  something  acceptable,  talked  about  Ketling,  praising 
him  to  the  skies,  extolling  his  courage,  his  kindness,  his  re- 
fined manners,  and  ancient  lineage.  And  Krysia  had  to  listen 
whether  she  would  or  not,  and  her  eyes  involuntarily  wan- 
dered to  that  man  of  whom  people  were  telling  her,  and 
sometimes  their  eyes  met.  Then  she  fell  more  powerfully 
under  the  spell  and  took  an  unconscious  delight  in  gazing 
at  him;  for  what  a  contrast  Ketling  was  to  all  these  rough 
soldiers!  "A  king's  son  amid  his  retinue/'  thought  Krysia 
as  she  looked  at  that  noble,  aristocratic  head,  and  those  am- 
bitious eyes  clouded  with  a  certain  inherent  sadness,  and 
that  brow  shaded  with  exuberant  golden  curls.  She  felt  her 
heart  sink  and  yearn  as  if  that  was  the  dearest  head  on  earth 
to  her.  Ketling  noticed  it,  and,  anxious  not  to  add  to  her 
confusion,  did  not  appr  ach  while  another  was  at  her  side. 
He  could  not  have  paid  her  greater  homage  or  attention  if 
she  had  been  a  queen.  When  he  addressed  her  he  bowed  his 
head  and  drew  back  one  foot  as  if  about  to  kneel  before 
her;  he  spoke  to  her  with  dignity  and  never  in  jest,  as  he 
did  to  Basia  for  example.  In  his  dealings  with  Krysia  there 
was  always  a  tinge  of  tender  melancholy  as  well  as  the  ut- 
most respect.  The  consequence  was  that  no  other  man  in- 
dulged in  too  free  speech,  or  jesting  too  bold,  as  if  they  were 
all  satisfied  that  her  birth  and  dignity  were  far  above  that 
of  ordinary  women  and  that  she  was  a  lady  who  could  never 
be  treated  with  too  much  deference. 

Krysia  felt  excessively  grateful  for  that.  On  the  whole 
the  evening  was  a  pleasant  though  anxious  one  for  her.  When 
it  was  nearly  midnight  the  music  ceased,  the  ladies  took 
leave  of  the  guests  and  cups  began  to  circulate  among  the 


2og  PAN   MICHAEL. 

knights  and  a  more  riotous  scene  ensued  in  which  Pan  Za- 
globa  occupied  the  place  of  Hetman.  Basia  went  upstairs 
happy  as  a  bird,  for  she  had  greatly  enjoyed  herself.  Be- 
fore saying  her  prayers  she  jested  and  mimicked  various 
guests:  at  last  she  clapped  her  hands  and  said: 

"How  delightful  it  is  that  your  Ketling  came!  There  will 
be  no  lack  of  soldiers  now.  Only  let  us  get  through  Lent  and 
I'll  have  dancing  enough.  What  fun  we'll  have!  And  if  I 
don't  turn  the  house  upside  down  at  your  betrothal  and 
wedding  may  the  Tartars  catch  me!  What  if  they  really 
were  to!  In  the  first  place  there  would  be.  ...  Ah, 
the  good  Ketling!  He  will  get  the  musicians  for  you  but 
I  shall  get  the  benefit  of  them  with  you.  He  will  bring 
you  marvel  after  marvel  till  at  last  he  does  this.  .  .  . 

Here  Basia  suddenly  fell  on  her  knees  before  Krysia  and 
putting  her  arm  round  her  waist  began  to  speak,  imitating 
Ketling's  low  tones: 

"My  lady!  I  love  you  so  that  I  cannot  breathe.  .  .  . 
I  love  you  on  foot  and  on  horseback.  I  love  you  fasting  and 
after  meals.  I  love  you  for  eternity,  and  as  the  Scotch  love. 
.  .  .  Will  you  be  mine  ?" 

"Basia,  I  shall  be  angry!"  cried  Krysia. 

But  instead  of  getting  angry  she  caught  Basia  in  her  arms 
and  kissed  her  on  the  eyes  as  she  made  a  feeble  attempt  to 
raise  h»r. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Pan  Zagloba  was  perfectly  well  aware  that  Pan  Michael  pre- 
ferred Krysia  to  Basia,  and  for  that  very  reason  he  deter- 
mined to  get  Krysia  out  of  the  way.  Knowing  Pan  Michael 
thoroughly  as  he  did,  he  was  satisfied  that,  if  there  was  no 
choice  left,  he  would  undoubtedly  turn  to  Basia,  with  whom 
the  old  noble  was  himself  so  infatuated  that  he  could  not  con- 
ceive how  anyone  could  prefer  anybody  else.  He  also  thought 
that  it  was  impossible  to  render  Pan  Michael  a  greater  service 
than  to  gain  his  little  haiduk  for  him,  and  the  thought  of  that 
union  delighted  his  heart.  He  was  provoked  with  Pan 
Michael  and  Krysia:  certainly  he  would  rather  have  Pan 
Michael  marry  Krysia  than  no  one,  but  he  resolved  to  do  all 
in  his  power  to  induce  him  to  marry  the  little  haiduk. 

It  was  just  on  account  of  his  knowledge  of  the  little  knight's 
affection  for  Panna  Drohoyovska  that  he  was  bent  on  making 
her  Pani  Ketling  as  soon  as  possible. 

Nevertheless  the  answer  he  received  from  Pan  Yan  some 
days  later  somewhat  weakened  his  resolution.  Pan  Yan  coun- 
selled him  not  to  meddle  at  all  in  the  matter,  for  he  feared 
that  if  he  did  it  might  easily  result  in  trouble  between  the  old 
friends.  Zagloba  was  far  from  desiring  that,  and  so  he  had 
certain  secret  misgivings  which  he  quieted  by  the  following 
reasoning: 

"If  Michael  and  Krysia  had  been  betrothed  and  I  had 
thrust  Ketling  in  between  them  like  a  wedge  it  would  be  an- 
other matter.  Solomon  says:  'Don't  poke  your  nose  into 
other  people's  business/  and  he  is^fluite  right.  But  every  man 
has  the  right  to  wish.  Besides,  after  all,  what  have  I  done?  I 
should  like  any  one  to  tell  me  that!" 

Here  Zagloba  rested  his  hands  on  his  hips,  pouted  his  lips, 
and  glared  defiantly  round  his  room  as  if  expecting  the  walls 
to  answer  his  challenge;  but  as  they  kept  silence  he  continued: 
"I  told  Ketling  that  I  intended  the  little  haiduk  for  Michael. 
Isn't  that  permissible?  Isn't  that  quite  true?  If  I  want 
Michael  to  have  any  other  woman  may  the  gout  afflict  me!" 


IIO  PAN   MICHAEL. 

The  walls  by  their  silence  acknowledged  the  justice  of  Zag- 
loba's  words,  so  he  proceeded:  "I  told  the  little  haiduk  that 
Ketling  had  fallen  a  victim  to  Krysia;  perhaps  that  is  not  true 
either!  Has  he  not  confessed  it:  has  he  not  sat  beside  the 
hearth  and  sighed  till  the  ashes  smothered  the  room?  And  I 
only  told  others  what  I  saw.  Pan  Yan  is  a  sharp  fellow,  but 
my  wit  is  not  something  to  be  thrown  to  the  dogs  either!  I 
can  decide  for  myself  what  may  be  said  and  what  had  better 
be  left  unsaid.  .  .  H'm!  he  writes  that  I  had  better  not  in- 
terfere in  anything.  "Well,  I  can  do  that  too.  Hereafter  I 
won't  interfere  in  anything.  When  I  am  the  third  party  in 
company  with  Krysia  and  Ketling  I  will  go  out  and  leave 
them  alone  together.  Let  them  manage  without  me!  Bah!  I 
think  they  can  do  it.  They  need  no  assistance  whatever,  for 
now  they  are  so  drawn  to  each  other  that  they  have  eyes  for 
nothing  else  and  besides  Spring  is  coming  when  not  only  the 
sun,  but  desire  grows  warmer.  Well!  I  will  let  them  alone, 
and  we  will  see  what  will  be  the  result." 

And  in  fact  it  was  not  long  before  the  result  was  to  be 
seen.  For  Holy  Week  all  the  guests  at  Ketling's  went  to 
Warsaw  and  lodged  at  the  hotel  on  Dluga  street,  so  as  to  be 
near  the  churches  to  perform  thair  devotions  at  their  ease, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  feast  their  eyes  on  the  holiday  life  and 
stir  of  the  city. 

There  Ketling  did  the  honors  as  host,  for,  though  a  for- 
eigner by  birth,  he  knew  the  capital  thoroughly  and  had  many 
acquaintances  everywhere  who  helped  him  to  make  everything 
pleasant.  He  outdid  himself  in  politeness  and  seemed  to  an- 
ticipate every  thought  of  his  fair  charges,  Krysia  especially. 
Besides  they  had  all  come  to  be  very  fond  of  him.  Pani 
Makovyetska,  as  Zagloba  had  prophesied,  regarded  him  and 
Krysia  with  more  favor  from  day  to  day,  and  if,  so  far,  she 
had  said  nothing  about  the  matter  to  Krysia,  it  was  only  be- 
cause he  had  not  yet  spoken.  The  worthy  aunt  considered  it 
quite  natural  and  right  that  the  cavalier  should  win  the  lady, 
particularly  as  he  was  so  -distinguished  and  received  such 
proofs  of  esteem  and  friendship,  not  only  from  ordinary  peo- 
ple, but  from  those  of  high  rank;  and  won  over  everybody 
with  his  marvellous  grace,  deportment,  dignity,  and  gentle- 
ness in  times  of  peace,  as  well  as  valor  in  war. 

"What  God  wills  and  my  husband  decides  will  happen,"  said 
Pan  Michael's  sister  <to  herself;  "but  I  will  not  cross  this 
couple/' 


PAN  MICHAEL.  in 

Thanks  to  this  determination  Ketling  found  himself  in 
Krysia's  company  more  frequently  and  longer  than  in  his  own 
house.  Moreover  the  whole  party  always  went  out  together. 

Zagloba  usually  gave  his  arm  to  Pan  Michael's  sister,  Ket- 
ling took  Krysia,  and  Basia,  as  the  youngest,  walked  alone, 
sometimes  hastening  on  far  in  advance  and  then  again  halting 
in  front  of  shops  to  gape  at  merchandise  and  treasures  from 
beyond,  the  sea  that  she  now  saw  for  the  first  time.  Krysia 
gradually  grew  more  accustomed  to  being  with  Ketling,  and 
now,  as  she  leaned  on  his  arm  and  listened  to  his  conversa- 
tion, or  gazed  at  his  noble  face,  her  heart  no  longer  beat  with 
alarm,  she  did  not  lose  her  presence  of  mind,  nor  was  her  heart 
filled  with  confusion,  but  with  a  deep  and  intoxicated  delight. 
They  were  constantly  alone;  they  knelt  beside  each  other  in 
church  and  their  voices  joined  in  prayer  and  praise. 

Ketling  was  fully  aware  of  the  state  of  his  own  heart. 
Krysia,  either  from  uncertainty  or  because  she  wanted  to  de- 
ceive herself,  did  not  confess  even  to  herself,  "I  love  him;" 
but  they  were  deeply  in  love  with  one  another.  But  in  addi- 
tion to  love  they  had  a  great  friendship  for  each  other.  They 
had  not  spoken  of  love  as  yet;  the  time  passed  like  a  dream 
and  brightness  was  above  them. 

Gloomy  clouds  of  self-reproach  were  soon  to  darken  the 
horizon  for  Krysia,  but  for  the  present  all  was  peace.  By  her 
intimacy  with  Ketling  and  growing  accustomed  to  him,  and 
by  the  love  and  friendship  that  had  sprung  up  between  them, 
Krysia's  compunctions  had  been  silenced,  she  no  longer  in- 
dulged disturbing  thoughts  and  the  struggle  between  her 
blood  and  will  had  ceased.  They  were  beside  each  other; 
they  were  happy  in  each  other's  society;  and  Krysia  entirely 
abandoned  herself  to  the  blissful  present  and  was  reluctant 
to  think  that  it  could  ever  end  or  that  the  illusion  was  likely 
to  be  broken  by  the  one  word  "Love"  from  Ketling. 

That  word  was  soon  spoken.  One  day  when  Pan  Michael's 
sister  and  Basia  were  visiting  a  sick  relative,  Ketling  per- 
suaded Krysia  and  Pan  Zagloba  to  go  and  see  the  king's 
castle,  which  she  had  not  yet  seen,  and  which  was  widely 
famed  for  its  marvels.  So  they  all  three  went  together.  All 
doors  had  been  opened  by  Ketling's  liberality,  and  Krysia 
was  greeted  by  the  keepers  with  as  profound  respect  as  though 
she  were  a  queen  entering  her  own  residence.  Ketling  was 
perfectly  familiar  with  the  castle,  and  himself  conducted  her 
through  the  magnificent  halls  and  chambers.  They  examined 


II2  PAN   MICHAflt. 

the  theatre  and  royal  baths;  they  stopped  before  pictures  of 
the  battles  and  victories  gained  by  Sigismund  and  Vladislav 
over  the  barbarism  of  the  East;  they  went  on  the  terraces 
whence  an  extensive  view  was  to  be  had.  Krysia  was  amazed 
with  all  she  saw;  he  explained  everything  to  her,  but  now  and 
then  he  would  become  silent,  and  gazing  into  her  dark-blue 
eyes  his  glance  seemed  to  say,  "What  are  all  these  marvels  in 
comparison  with  thee?  What  are  all  these  treasures  beside 
thee?" 

She  comprehended  that  silent  eloquence.  He  led  her  to 
one  of  the  royal  apartments  and  halted  before  a  door  con- 
cealed in  the  wall. 

"The  cathedral  may  be  reached  by  this  door,"  he  said. 
"There  is  a  long  corridor  ending  in  a  little  gallery  near  the 
high  altar.  From  that  gallery  the  king  and  queen  generally 
hear  Mass." 

"I  know  that  way  very  well,"  exclaimed  Zagloba,  "for  I  was 
intimate  with  John  Casimir.  Maria  Ludovika  was  very  fond 
of  me,  so  that  they  both  often  invited  me  to  Mass  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  my  company  added  'to  the  edification  of  piety." 

"Would  you  like  to  go  in?"  asked  Ketling,  calling  the 
porter. 

"Let  us  go,"  Krysia  answered. 

"Go  alone,"  said  Zagloba,  "you  are  young  and  have  good 
legs;  I  have  already  had  enough  trotting  about.  Go  on;  go 
on;  I  will  stay  here  with  the  porter.  And  even  if  you  say  a 
couple  of  Paters  I  shan't  mind  the  loss  of  time,  as  meanwhile 
I  shall  be  resting." 

They  went  in. 

Ketling  took  her  by  the  hand  and  led  her  through  a  long 
corridor.  He  did  not  press  her  hand  to  his  heart,  but  walked 
calmly  and  composedly.  At  intervals  the  side  windows  illum- 
ined their  figures  and  then  they  were  again  plunged  in  dark- 
ness. His  heart  beat  quicker,  for  this  was  the  first  time  they 
bad  ever  been  alone,  but  his  'tranquility  quieted  her  too.  At 
last  they  emerged  in  the  little  gallery  on  the  right  side  of  the 
church  near  the  high  altar.  They  knelt  down  and  began  to 
pray.  The  church  was  silent  and  empty.  Two  candles  were 
burning  before  the  high  altar,  but  all  the  lower  part  of  the 
nave  was  shrouded  in  impressive  dusk.  Only  from  the  rain- 
bow-colored glass  of  the  windows  rays  fell  upon  the  two  beau- 
tiful faces  absorbed  in  prayer,  and  as  calm  as  the  faces  of 
cherubim, 


PAN  MICHAEL.  1 13 

Ketling  was  the  first  to  rise,  and  not  daring  to  raise  his 
voice  above  a  whisper  in  the  church,  he  said: 

"Look  at  this  velvet-covered  rail;  it  retains  the  marks 
where  the  royal  pair  rested  their  heads.  The  queen  sat  on 
that  side  nearest  the  altar.  Eest  where  she  did!"  . 

"Is  it  true  that  her  whole  life  was  unhappy?"  whispered 
Krysia  as  she  took  the  seat. 

"I  heard  her  story  when  still  a  child,  for  they  tell  it  in 
every  baronial  castle.  Perhaps  she  was  unhappy  because  she 
could  not  marry  him  to  whom  her  heart  was  given." 

Krysia  rested  her  head  in  the  hollow  made  by  that  of 
Maria  Ludovika  and  closed  her  eyes.  A  strange  feeling  of 
pain  took  possession  of  her  breast  and  a  kind  of  chill  sud- 
denly struck  her  from  the  deserted  nave  and  disturbed  the 
calm  in  which  her  spirit  had  been  steeped  but  a  moment  ago. 
Ketling  gazed  silently  at  Krysia  and  a  stillness  that  was  ac- 
tually of  the  temple  succeeded. 

Then  he  slowly  bowed  at  her  feet  and  in  quiet  tones  that 
were  yet  full  of  emotion,  said: 

"It  is  no  sin  to  kneel  to  you  in  this  sacred  place;  for  where 
should  true  love  seek  a  henison  if  not  in  a  church?  I  love 
you  more  than  my  life;  more  than  any  earthly  good;  I  love 
you  with  my  whole  soul  and  heart,  and  I  confess  it  to  you 
here  before  this  altar." 

Krysia's  face  became  as  white  as  a  sheet.  Leaning  her  head 
against  the  velvet  back  of  the  seat,  the  unhappy  girl  did  not 
stir  as  he  continued: 

"I  kiss  your  feet  and  await  your  reply.  Am  I  to  leave  this 
place  in  a  state  of  heavenly  bliss,  or  unendurable  grief  that 
I  shall  not  be  able  to  survive?" 

He  waited  some  moments  for  an  answer,  but  as  none  came 
he  bowed  his  head  till  it  almost  touched  Krysia' s  feet,  and 
his  emotion  increased  and  manifested  itself  in  his  trembling 
and  breathless  voice: 

"In  your  hands  I  place  my  life  and  happiness.  I  crave  your 
mercy,  for  my  burden  is  great." 

"Let  us  pray  for  the  mercy  of  God!"  cried  Krysia,  suddenly 
falling  upon  her  knees. 

Ketling  did  not  understand  her,  but  did  not  venture  to 
make  any  opposition,  and  therefore  knelt  beside  her  in  min- 
gled hope  and  fear.  They  again  began  to  pray. 

At  intervals  their  voices  were  audible  in  the  empty  church, 
and  were  echoed  back  strangely  and  mournfully. 
I 


H4  PAN   MICHAEL. 

"God  be  merciful!"  cried  Krysia. 

"God  be  merciful!"  Ketling  repeated. 

"Have  mercy  upon  us!" 

"Have  mercy  upon  us!" 

She  continued  her  prayer  in  silence;  but  Ketling  saw  that 
her  whole  body  was  shaken  with  weeping.  It  was  long  before 
she  could  calm  herself,  and  at  last,  quieting  down,  she  con- 
tinued kneeling  motionlessly.  At  length  she  got  up  and  said: 
"Let  us  go!" 

They  again  entered  the  long  corridor.  Ketling  hoped  that 
he  would  receive  some  answer  on  the  way,  and  tried  to  meet 
her  glance,  but  in  vain.  She  walked  in  haste  as  though  anx- 
ious to  get  back  as  soon  as  possible  to  the  hall  where  Zagloba 
was  awaiting  them. 

But  when  they  were  near  the  door  the  knight  took  hold  of 
her  skirt. 

"Panna  Krystina,"  he  cried,  "by  all  that  is  sacred- 
Then  Krysia  turned,  and  seizing  his  hand  so  quickly  that 
he  had  no  time  to  make  any  resistance,  she  raised  it  in  an 
instant  to  her  lips. 

"I  love  you  with  my  whole  soul;  but  I  can  never  be  yours!" 
and  before  the  astonished  Ketling  could  utter  a  word  she 
added: 

"Forget  everything  that  has  happened." 

In  another  moment  they  were  both  in  the  hall.  The  porter 
was  dozing  in  one  armchair  and  Zagloba  in  another.  Their 
entrance  aroused  them.  Zagloba  opened  his  one  eye  and 
began  to  blink  in  half  consciousness,  but  gradually  he  re- 
covered memory  of  the  time  and  people. 

"Ah,  there  you  are!"  he  said,  pulling  himself  together.  "I 
was  dreaming  that  the  new  king  was  elected  and  that  he  was 
a  Pole.  Did  you  go  to  the  little  gallery?" 

"We  did." 

"Did  the  spirit  of  Maria  Ludovika  appear  to  you  by  any 
chance?" 

"It  did!"  Krysia  replied  sombrely. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

When  they  left  tfie  castle,  Ketling  felt  the  need  of  collect- 
ing his  thoughts  and  recovering  from  his  amazement  at 
Krysia's  conduct.  He  bade  her  and  Zagloba  farewell  at  the 
gate,  and  they  returned  to  their  lodgings.  Basia  and  Pani 
Stolnikova  had  already  come  back  from  the  invalid  lady;  and 
Pani  Stolnikova  greeted  Zagloba  as  follows: 

"I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  my  husband,  who  is  still 
with  Michael  at  the  stanitsa.  They  are  both  well  and  expect 
to  come  here  very  soon.  There  is  a  letter  for  you  from 
Michael,  but  only  a  postcript  from  him  to  me  in  my  hus- 
band's letter.  My  husband  also  tells  me  that  the  quarrel 
about  one  of  Basia's  estates  with  the  Jubris  has  ended  hap- 
pily. It  is  nearly  time  for  the  provincial  diets  to  meet. 
They  say  that  in  that  part  of  the  country  Pan  Sobieski's  name 
carries  weight,  and  that  the  local  diet  will  yield  to  his  wishes. 
Every  single  man  is  getting  ready  for  the  election;  but  our 
people  will  all  be  with  the  Crown-Marshal.  It  is  now  quite 
warm  there  and  the  rains  have  begun.  Our  out-buildings  in 
Verkhutka  have  been  burned.  One  of  the  servants  dropped 
a  light,  and  as  there  was  a  wind — 

"What  have  you  done  with  Michael's  letter  to  me?"  asked 
Zagloba,  interrupting  the  volume  of  news  which  the  esti- 
mable lady  was  pouring  forth  in  a  single  breath. 

"Here  it  is,"  she  answered,  handing  him  the  letter.  "There 
was  such  a  wind,  and  everybody  had  gone  to  the  fair — 

"How  did  the  letters  get  here?"  asked  Zagloba. 

"They  were  taken  to  Ketling's  and  brought  on  by  a  servant. 
I  said  there  was  such  a  wind — ' 

"Would  you  like  to  hear  this,  Madam?" 

"Of  course,  I  entreat  you." 

Breaking  the  seal,  Zagloba  .began  to  read  to  himself  in  an 
undertone  and  presently  aloud: 

"You  shall  have  this  first  letter;  but  God  grant  that  there 
be  none  to  follow  it,  for  posts  are  unreliable  in  this  part  of  the 
world,  and  besides  I  hope  to  be  with  you  soon.  It  is  pleasant 

("5) 


n6  PAN  MICHAEL. 

enough  here  in  the  field,  but  I  long  to  come  to  you  and 
thoughts  and  memories  are  always  haunting  me,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  I  prefer  solitude  to  company.  Our  duty  is 
fulfilled,  for  the  hordes  are  now  quiet,  with  the  exception  of 
a  few  small  bands  rioting  in  the  fields;  but  we  fell  upon  them 
twice  with  such  effect  that  not  one  was  left  to  tell  of  their 
calamity." 

"Oh,  they  made  it  hot  for  them,"  exclaimed  Basia,  joyfully. 
"No  calling  is  better  than  a  soldier's." 

Zagloba  read  on:  "Doroshenko's  rabble  would  like  to  have 
a  smack  at  us,  but  they  are  powerless  without  the  horde.  The 
prisoners  admit  that  a  larger  chambul  will  not  move  from  any 
place,  and  I  believe  this  because  it  would  have  started  already, 
for  the  grass  has  now  been  green  a  week,  which  would  give 
pasture  for  their  horses.  Patches  of  snow  are  still  lying  in 
the  ravines;  but  the  open  steppes  are  green  and  there  are 
balmy  breezes  which  make  the  horses  shed  their  hair,  and 
this  is  the  surest  of  all  signs  of  spring.  I  have  asked  for  leave 
of  absence,  which  may  arrive  at  any  moment,  and  I  will  start 
the  instant  it  comes.  Pan  Adam  will  take  my  place  in  keep- 
ing  guard,  and  there  is  so  little  to  do  that  Makovyetska  and  I 
have  been  fox-hunting  for  days  at  a  time, — simply  for  out 
own  amusement,  for  the  fur  is  only  good  up  to  Spring  .  .  . 
There  are  a  good  many  bustards  here,  and  my  servant  shot  a 
pelican  among  the  reeds.  I  embrace  you  with  all  my  heart; 
I  kiss  the  hands  of  my  sister  ana  Panna  Krysia,  to  whose 
good  graces  I  commend  myself,  beseeching  God  that  I  may 
find  her  unchanged  and  her  consolation  as  before.  Greet 
Panna  Basia  for  me.  Pan  Adam  has  vented  the  anger  ex- 
cited by  his  rejection  at  Mokotov  upon  the  backs  of  ruffians, 
but  it  is  very  certain  that  some  of  it  still  remains.  He  has 
not  quite  recovered  yet.  I  commit  you  to  God  and  to  His 
holy  favor. 

p.  g. — I  have  just  bought  some  fine  ermine  from  some 
travelling  Armenians,  which  I  intend  to  bring  as  a  present  to 
Panna  Krysia,  and  I  have  some  Turkish  sweets  for  our  little 
haiduk." 

"Pan  Michael  may  eat  them  himself;  I'm  not  a  child,"  said 
Basia,  whose  face  flamed  red,  as  if  with  a  sudden  unpleasant- 
ness. 

"Then  you  won't  be  glad  to  see  him?  Are  you  angry  with 
him?"  Zagloba  asked. 

Basia  mumbled  a  reply  in  a  low  voice,  for  she  was  really 


PAN  MICHAEL.  II7 

angry,  and  began  to  think  how  lightly  Pan  Michael  regarded 
her  and  also  about  the  bustard  and  the  pelican,  which  particu- 
larly aroused  her  curiosity. 

It  was  fortunate  that  Krysia  sat  with  her  back  to  the  light 
and  with  closed  eyes,  while  the  letter  was  being  read,  because 
no  one  could  see  her  face,  which  revealed  the  fact  that  some- 
thing unusual  had  occurred.  The  scene  in  the  church  and 
Pan  Volodiyovskfs  letter  were  two  terrible  shocks  for  her. 
Her  marvellous  dream  had  vanished;  and  now  she  was  com- 
pelled to  face  a  stern  reality  as  overwhelming  as  misfortune. 
She  had  no  command  over  her  thoughts,  and  undefined,  vague 
feelings  were  at  war  in  her  heart.  Pan  Michael,  together 
with  his  letter,  his  promise  of  soon  coming,  and  his  package 
of  ermine  seemed  so  tiresome  that  he  was  almost  repellant. 
Ketling,  on  the  other  hand,  had  never  seemed  so  dear  to  her. 
Dear  was  his  face,  dear  his  words,  dear  his  melancholy,  dear 
the  very  thought  of  him, — and  now  she  must  leave  this  love 
and  devotion,  leave  him  for  whom  her  heart  is  longing  and 
her  arms  outstretched,  for  the  endless  pain  and  sorrow  of  giv- 
ing her  soul  and  body  to  another,  who  only  because  he  is 
another  has  almost  become  odious  to  her. 

"I  cannot  do  it,  I  cannot  do  it!"  cried  Krysia  in  her  heart. 

She  began  to  feel  as  if  she  were  being  bound  in  irons;  yet 
she  had  placed  the  fetters  on  her  own  wrists,  for  she  had  had 
the  chance  of  telling  Pan  Michael  that  she  would  be  a  sister 
to  him  and  nothing  more. 

The  memory  of  the  kiss  haunted  her — the  kiss  received  and 
returned, — and  a  wave  of  shame  and  scorn  for  herself  swept 
over  her.  Was  she  in  love  with  Pan  Michael  that  day?  No! 
There  was  really  no  love  in  her  heart  then,  nothing  but  a 
little  sympathy,  curiosity,  and  idle  fancy,  hidden  under  the 
mask  of  sisterly  affection.  She  now  knows  for  the  first  time 
the  difference  between  the  kiss  of  love  and  the  kiss  of  warm 
impulse  which  are  as  far  removed  as  an  angel  is  from  a  devil. 
Along  witfr  contempt  Krysia's  anger  was  rising;  finally 
her  pride  asserted  itself  and  attacked  Pan  Michael.  He  was 
also  in  the  wrong;  why  should  she  have  to  bear  all  the  punish- 
ment, contrition,  and  disappointment?  Why  should  he  not 
also  taste  the  bitter  cup?  Has  she  not  the  right  to  say  to 
him  when  he  returns: 

"I  was  mistaken — I  mistook  pity  for  love.  You  were  also 
deceived;  now  give  it  up  as  I  do!" 

Suddenly  her  blood  runs  cold  with  fear, — fear  of  that  ter- 


H8  PAN  MICHAEL. 

rible  man's  vengeance;  she  is  not  afraid  for  herself,  but  for 
her  beloved  upon  whom  revenge  will  inevitably  fall.  In  her 
imagination  she  sees  Ketling  arrayed  against  that  king  of 
swordsmen,  and  then  swept  down  as  a  flower  is  cut  by  a 
scythe;  she  sees  his  blood,  his  white  face,  his  eyes  closed  for- 
ever, and  her  mental  suffering  becomes  unendurable.  She 
rises  quickly  and  goes  to  her  room  to  escape  the  eyes  of  every- 
one and  to  avoid  the  conversation  regarding  Pan  Michael  and 
his  approaching  visit.  More  and  more  animosity  rises  in  her 
heart  towards  the  little  knight. 

But  Eemorse  and  Regret  assailed,  her  and  would  not  even 
leave  her  during  her  prayers;  they  hovered  around  her  bed, 
when  she  lay  down  spent  with  weariness,  and  seemed  to  speak 
to  her. 

"Where  is  he?"  asked  Kegret.  "He  has  not  come  in  yet; 
he  is  wandering  about  in  the  dark  in  great  despair.  Thou 
wouldst  bow  down  the  heavens  for  him,  thou  wouldst  give 
him  thy  life's  blood ;  but  thou  hast  given  him  a  poisoned  cup, 
thou  hast  stabbed  him  to  the  heart." 

"Had  it  not  been  for  thy  frivolity,"  said  Remorse,  "had  it 
not  been  for  thy  desire  to  bring  every  man  to  thy  feet,  every- 
thing might  be  different;  but  now  despair  is  all  that  remains 
for  thee.  It  is  thy  sin, — thy  great  sin.  No  help  can  come  to 
thee;  nothing  will  rescue  thee  now, — nothing  remains  but 
shame,  and  sorrow,  and  tears." 

"How  he  knelt  before  thee  in  the  church!"  said  Regret 
again.  "It  is  a  wonder  that  thy  heart  did  not  break  when  he 
looked  in  thine  eyes  and  begged  for  pity.  How  just  it  was  in 
thee  to  have  mercy  upon  a  stranger,  but  for  the  beloved  one, 
the  adored  one, — what?  God  comfort  him!  God  bless  him!" 

"Were  it  not  for  thy  frivolity  that  adored  one  might  depart 
joyous,"  said  Remorse,  "thou  mightest  journey  through  life 
arm-in-arm  with  him,  his  chosen  one,  his  wife — " 

"And  remain  with  him  forever,''  added  Regret. 

"It  is  thy  fault,"  said  Remorse. 

"0  Krysia,  weep,"  said  Regret. 

"That  sin  cannot  be  redeemed,"  said  Remorse. 

"Act  as  thou  wilt,  but  try  to  console  him,"  said  Regret. 

"Volodiyovski  will  kill  him,"  immediately  said  Remorse. 

Krysia  broke  out  in  a  cold  perspiration,  and  sat  up  in  bed. 
The  room,  flooded  with  the  white  rays  of  moonlight,  looked 
weird,  and  terrified  her. 

"'Wliat  is  that?"  thought  Krysia.     "Oh,  it  is  Basia  sleeping. 


MICIIAEL.  ng 

I  see  her  now,  for  the  moon  is  shining  on  her  face;  but  I  don't 
know  when  she  came  in,  or  when  she  undressed  and  went  to 
bed.  And  yet  I  have  not  slept  a  single  minute — it  is  certain 
my  poor  brain  is  wandering/7 

So  meditating,  she  again  lay  down;  but  Eegret  and  Ke- 
morse  remained  at  her  bedside,  like  two  goddesses,  who  in 
turn  became  visible  and  invisible  in  the  silvery  moonbeams. 

"I  shall  not  sleep  at  all  to-night,"  said  Krysia. 

Then  she  began  to  think  of  Ketling  and  to  suffer  more  and 
more. 

All  at  once  Basia's  pathetic  voice  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
night. 

"Krysia!" 

"Aren't  you  asleep?" 

"No,  I  have  just  had  a  dream  that  a  Turk  shot  Pam  Michael 
with  an  arrow.  0  Christ!  a  false  dream!  But  I  am  shaking 
with  fear.  Let  us  say  the  Litany,  so  that  God  may  turn  away 
evil  fortune." 

"God  grant  that  some  one  may  shoot  him!"  was  the  wish 
that  flashed  through  Krysia's  brain  like  lightning.  Then  she 
was  instantly  appalled  by  her  own  wickedness,  and  though  she 
had  to  exert  almost  superhuman  strength  just  at  that  moment 
to  pray  for  Volodiyovski's  return,  yet  she  answered: 

"Certainly,  Basia." 

They  both  got  out  of  bed,  and,  kneeling  on  their  bare 
knees  on  the  moonlit  floor,  began  to  repeat  the  Litany.  Their 
voices  rose  and  fell  in  response  and  one  would  have  thought 
this  room  the  cell  of  a  cloister,  in  which  two  little  white  nuns 
were  repeating  their  nocturnal  prayers. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  next  morning  Krysia  was  more  tranquil;  for  in  a 
tangled  maze,  though  very  difficult,  the  path  she  had  selected 
was  the  right  one.  Following  this  at  least  she  could  see 
whither  it  led.  But  first  she  intended  to  have  an  interview 
with  Ketling  and  talk  with  him  for  the  last  time,  so  that 
there  should  be  no  misunderstanding.  This  was  a  difficult 
matter,  for  Ketling  did  not  put  in  an  appearance  for  some 
days  and  stayed  away  at  night. 

Krysia  therefore  began  to  rise  before  dawn  and  go  to  the 
neighboring  church  of  the  Dominicans  hoping  to  meet  him 
some  morning  and  have  an  interview  without  witnesses. 

A  few  days  later  in  fact  she  met  him  at  the  very  door. 
On  seeing  her  he  took  off  his  cap  and  bowed  his  head  in 
silence.  He  stood  motionless;  his  face  was  drawn  with  suf- 
fering and  loss  of  sleep  and  his  eyes  were  sunken;  his  temples 
were  tinged  with  yellow  and  his  complexion  was  waxen;  he 
looked  like  a  beautiful  fading  flower.  Krysia' s  heart  was  torn 
at  his  appearance;  and  though  it  always  cost  her  a  great  deal 
to  take  any  decided  step,  being  timid  by  nature,  she  was  the 
first  to  extend  her  hand  and  say: 

"May  God  console  and  grant  you  forgetfulness!" 

Ketling  took  her  hand  and  carried  it  to  his  brow,  and  then 
to  his  lips,  pressing  it  long  and  fervently;  then  in  accents 
of  the  utmost  sadness  and  resignation,  he  said: 

"Thou  hast  neither  consolation  nor  forgetfulness  for  me 
t.  .  .  " 

For  a  moment  it  required  all  Krysia's  self-control  to  pre- 
vent her  from  casting  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  crying, 
"I  love  thee  more  than  anything  on  earth,  take  me!"  She 
felt  that  if  she  once  began  to  weep  she  must  do  so,  and  so 
for  some  moments  she  stood  before  him  without  saying  a 
word  and  struggling  with  her  tears.  At  length  she  conquered 
them  and  began  to  speak  calmly  though  rapidly,  her  breath 
coming  quickly: 

"Perhaps  it  may  be  some  relief  for  you  to  hear  that  I  shall 

(no) 


PAN   MICHAEL.  I2l 

never  belong  to  anyone.  .  .  .  I  am  going  behind  the  grille. 
.  .  .  Never  judge  harshly  of  me,  for  I  am  wretched  enough 
as  it  is.  Promise  me,  Sir,  that  you  will  never  speak  of  your 
love  for  me  to  anybody  .  .  .  that  you  will  never  acknowl- 
edge it  ...  that  neither  to  friend  nor  relative  you  will 
ever  reveal  what  has  occurred.  This  is  my  last  prayer.  The 
day  will  come  when  you  will  know  why  I  ask  this  and  then 
you  will  understand.  I  will  say  no  more  now,  for  my  grief 
is  so  great  that  it  is  impossible  .  .  .  promise  me, — it  will 
comfort  me;  if  you  refuse,  it  may  kill  me." 

"I  promise,  I  give  you  my  word,"  Ketling  replied. 

"God  reward  you,  and  I  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart!  Moreover,  exhibit  a  tranquil  countenance  in  the 
presence  of  others,  so  that  nobody  may  have  any  suspicions. 
It  is  time  for  me  to  go.  I  canont  find  words  to  express  my 
sense  of  your  kindness.  Henceforward  we  shall  not  see  each 
other  alone,  but  only  before  people.  Say  also  that  you  are 
not  angry  with  me,  for  it  is  bad  enough  to  suffer  without 
that  in  addition.  You  resign  me  to  God  and  to  no  one  else; 
remember  that." 

Ketling  wanted  to  make  some  reply;  but  his  grief  was  so 
extreme  that  only  inarticulate  sounds  were  Jieard;  then  he 
laid  his  hand  on  K^sia's  brow  and  held  it  there  for  a  mo- 
ment in  sign  of  pardon  and  blessing. 

Then  they  separated;  she  entered  the  church  and  he  went 
down  the  street  so  as  to  avoid  any  acquaintance  at  the  inn. 

Krysia  did  not  return  till  afternoon  and  on  her  arrival  she 
found  a  distinguished  guest,  Prince-bishop  Olshovski,  the 
Vice-Chancellor.  He  was  paying  an  unexpected  visit  to  Pan 
Zagloba,  being  desirous,  as  he  explained,  of  making  the  ac- 
quaintance of  such  a  famous  noble,  "whose  military  greatness 
was  an  example  and  whose  wisdom  was  the  guide  of  the 
knights  of  the  entire  Commonwealth." 

Zagloba  was  in  reality  greatly  surprised,  but  none  the  loss 
gratified,  at  having  such  a  great  honor  done  him  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  ladies;  he  assumed  an  air  of  great  importance 
and  puffed  and  perspired,  at  the  same  time  trying  to  show 
Pani  Makovyetska  that  he  was  quite  accustomed  to  similar 
visits  from  the  highest  dignitaries  of  the  land  and  held  them 
very  cheap.  Krysia  was  presented  to  the  prelate  and  after 
respectfully  kissing  his  hand  took  a  seat  beside  Basia,  re- 
lieved to  find  that  nobody  noticed  the  marks  of  recent  emo- 
tion on  her  face. 


122  PAX   MICHAEL. 

Meanwhile  the  Vice-Chaneellor  loaded  Zagloba  with  such 
facile  and  bountiful  eulogies  that  he  seemed  to  be  constantly 
drawing  fresh  supplies  of  them  from  his  sleeves  of  violet  em- 
broidered with  lace. 

"Do  not  think,  your  lordship,"  he  said,  "that  it  was  mere 
curiosity  that  brought  me  here  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
the  first  man  among  the  knights;  for  though  admiration  is 
the  just  due  of  heroes,  yet  their  own  profit  also  leads  men 
to  make  pilgrimages  to  the  spot  where  wisdom  and  experience 
dwell  together  with  might." 

"Experience,"  Zagloba  modestly  replied,  "in  the  art  of 
war  above  all,  can  only  come  with  years;  and  it  was  per- 
haps on  that  account  that  my  advice  was  frequently  sought 
by  the  late  Pan  Konyespolski,  father  of  the  banneret,  and 
subsequently  also  Pan  Nikolai  Pototski,  Prince  Yeremy 
Vishnyovyetski,  Pan  Sapyeha,  and  Pan  Charnyetski;  but  I 
have  always  protested  against  the  title  'Ulysses'  for  modesty's 
sake." 

"It  is  however  so  inseparably  connected  with  your  lord- 
ship that  men  seldom  speak  your  real  name  but  say  'Our 
Ulysses'  and  everybody  immediately  knows  to  whom  the 
speaker  refers.  Therefore  in  these  fateful  and  eventful  days, 
when  more  than  one  man  is  bewildered  in  his  mind  and 
knows  not  whither  to  turn  or  whom  to  support,  I  said  to 
myself,  'I  will  go  and  listen  to  solid  convictions  and  have 
my  doubts  resolved  and  my  mind  illumined  with  sound  ad- 
vice/ Your  lordship  will  understand  that  I  desire  to  speak 
of  the  approaching  election,  in  anticipation  of  which  every 
criticism  of  the  various  candidates  may  be  of  some  benefit, 
and  how  much  more  when  it  proceeds  from  the  lips  of  your 
lordship!  I  have  heard  it  repeated  with  acclamation  among 
the  knighthood  that  you  are  opposed  to  those  foreigners  who 
are  attempting  to  force  themselves  on  our  exalted  throne. 
In  the  veins  of  the  Vasas — as  you  rightly  sated — Yagellon 
blood  flowed, — so  that  they  could  not  be  regarded  as  for- 
eigners; but, — as  you  insisted — neither  are  they  familiar 
with  our  ancient  Polish  customs,  nor  will  they  respect  our 
liberties,  and  therefore  absolute  rule  might  easity  result.  I 
confess  to  your  lordship  that  these  are  weighty  words;  but 
pardon  my  inquiring  if  your  lordship  really  uttered  them, 
or  is  it  merely  public  rumor,  which,  in  this  instance  as  ever, 
attributed  every  important  speech  to  your  lordship  first  of 
all?" 


PAX  MWBAEL 


123 


"These  ladies  are  witnesses/'  answered  Zagloba;  "and 
though  this  matter  is  too  high  for  their  judgment,  let  them 
speak  for  me,  since  the  inscrutable  decrees  of  Providence 
have  endowed  them  with  the  power  of  speech  equally  with 
ourselves/' 

The  Vice-Chancellor  turned  to  Panna  Makovyetska  and 
the  two  young  ladies  in  turn  who  were  nestling  together. 

A  moment's  silence  followed. 

Suddenly  Basia's  silvery  tones  were  heard: 

"I  heard  nothing  at  all." 

Then  she  became  greatly  confused  and  blushed  up  to  her 
ears,  more  especially  as  Zagloba  imemdiately  said: 

"Pardon  her,  Your  Highness.  She  is  young  and  conse- 
quently giddy.  But  with  regard  to  the  candidates,  I  have 
more  than  once  declared  that  our  Polish  liberties  will  have 
cause  to  weep  on  account  of  these  foreigners." 

"I  also  fear  it,"  said  the  Vice-Chancellor;  %ut  even  if  we 
desired  some  Pole,  blood  of  our  blood  and  bone  of  our  bone, 
in  what  direction  could  our  hearts  turn?  Your  lordship's 
idea  of  a  Pole  is  great  and  is  running  through  the  land  like 
a  flame;  for  I  hear  that  in  every  diet  which  is  not  in  the 
bonds  of  corruption  the  sole  cry  to  be  heard  is  'A  Pole,  a 
Pole!"  ' 

"Quite  right,  quite  right!'  exclaimed  Zagloba. 

"Still,"  proceeded  the  Vice-Chancellor,  "it  is  easier  to 
shout  for  a  Pole  than  to  find  a  suitable  person;  and  therefore 
let  not  your  lordship  be  surprised  at  my  asking  who  was  in 
your  lordship's  mind." 

"Who  was  in  my  mind?"  repeated  Zagloba  somewhat 
puzzled. 

And,  pursing  his  lips,  he  frowned.  It  was  hard  for  him 
to  answer  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  for  so  far  not  only  had 
he  no  one  in  particular  in  his  mind,  but  the  Vice-Chancellor 
was  crediting  him  with  opinions  to  which  he  had  not  the 
least  claim.  Moreover  he  was  quite  aware  of  this  and  saw 
that  the  Vice-Chancellor  was  endeavoring  to  incline  him  to 
some  particular  side,  for  which  he  was  quite  willing,  as  it 
greatly  flattered  his  pride. 

"It  was  only  in  principle  that  I  insisted  that  we  ought  to 
have  a  Pole,"  he  answered  at  last.  "But  the  fact  is  I  have 
not  mentioned  any  name  till  now." 

"I  have  heard  of  the  ambitious  plans  of  Prince  Boguslav 
Radzivill"  murmured  the  Vice-Chancellor  as  if  to  himself. 


MICHAEL. 

"While  there  is  any  breath  left  in  my  nostrils,  or  the  last 
drop  of  blood  in  my  body,"  cried  Zagloba  with  fierce  con- 
viction, "nothing  can  come  of  that!  I  should  hate  to  live 
with  a  people  so  vile  as  to  give  to  a  traitor,  a  Judas,  dominion 
as  his  recompense." 

"There  speaks  not  only  reason,  but  civic  virtue  also/'  again 
murmured  the  Vice-Chancellor. 

"Aha!"  mused  Zagloba,  "if  you  are  trying  to  draw  me  I  will 
draw  you." 

The  Vice-Chancellor  then  resumed:  "0  dismantled  ship 
of  my  country,  when  wilt  thou  reach  a  haven?  What  tern- 
pests,  what  rocks  await  thee?  Evil  indeed  will  it  be  if  a 
foreigner  takes  the  tiller,  but  that  is  certain  to  happen  unless 
a  better  be  found  among  thine  own  sons." 

Here  he  extended  his  white  hands  loaded  with  sparkling 
rings,  bowed  his  head,  and  said  resignedly: 

"Therefore  Conde,  or  Lorraine,  or  the  Prince  of  Neuberg! 
.  .  .  There  is  no  other  issue!" 

"Impossible!     A  Pole!"  answered  Zagloba. 

"But  who?"  asked  the  other. 

Silence  followed.  Then  the  Vice-Chancellor  again  began 
to  speak:  "If  only  there  were  one  on  whom  all  could 
agree!  Where  can  we  find  one  who  would  immediately  arouse 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  knighthood  so  that  there  would  be 
none  to  oppose  his  election!  There  was  such  a  man,  the 
greatest  of  all,  of  the  most  illustrious  services,  your  own 
glorious  friend,  0  knight,  who  walked  in  glory  as  in  sun- 
light. .  .  There  was  such.  .  .  . 

"Prince  Yeremy  Vishnyovyetski!"  interrupted  Zagloba. 

"Exactly.    But  he  is  in  the  grave.     .     .     .  fi 

"His  son  lives/'  answered  Zagloba. 

The  Vice-Chancellor  half  closed  his.  eyes  and  for  some 
moments  sat  silent;  suddenly  he  raised  his  head  and,  gazing 
at  Zagloba,  began  to  say  slowly:  "I  thank  the  Lord  for  having 
inspired  me  with  the  idea  of  seeking  your  lordship.  That  is 
it!  the  son  of  the  ilustrious  Yeremy  lives,— -a  prince  young 
and  full  of  promise,  to  whom  the  Commonwealth  has  a  debt 
to  pay.  Of  his  immense  fortune  nothing  is  left  but  glory, — 
that  is  his  only  patrimony.  Therefore  in  these  days  of  cor- 
ruption when  the  eyes  of  every  man  are  turned  only  to 
gold,  who  will  speak  his  name,  who*  will  be  brave  enough 
to  propose  him  as  a  candidate?  You?  True!  But  will  many 
follow  yonr  lead?  It  is  not  surprising  that  he  who  has  spent 


PAN  MICHAEL.  125 

his  life  in  heroic  fight  on  every  field  will  bravely  honor  merit 
with  his  vote  on  the  election  field  .  .  .  but  will  others 
follow  his  example?" 

Here  the  Vice-chancellor  sank  into  momentary  meditation 
and  then  raised  his  eyes  and  continued: 

"God  is  more  powerful  than  all.  Who  can  tell  his  decrees, 
who?  When  I  remember  how  all  the  knighthood  believe  and 
trust  in  you,  my  heart  is  filled  with  a  marvellous  hope.  Tell 
me  frankly,  have  you  ever  regarded  anything  as  impossible?" 

"Never!"  cried  Zagloba  with  confidence. 

"However,  it  would  not  be  well  to  put  forward  that  candi- 
dature too  prominently  at  first.  Let  the  name  be  in  people's 
ears,  but  not  so  as  to  sound  too  dangerous  to  opponents;  let 
them  rather  mock  and  jeer  at  it,  so  that  they  may  not  place 
too  great  obstacles  in  the  path.  .  .  .  Perhaps  also,  God 
may  grant  success  when  the  exertions  of  the  various  factions 
have  resulted  in  their  mutual  destruction.  Let  your  lord- 
ship gradually  smooth  the  way  for  it  and  continue  in  your 
efforts,  for  this  is  your  candidate,  worthy  of  such  wisdom 
and  experience  as  yours.  God  prosper  your  designs." 

"Am  I  to  conclude"  inquired  Zagloba,  "that  Your  High- 
ness has  also  been  thinking  of  Prince  Michael?" 

The  Vice-Chancellor  took  from  his  pocket,  a  little  book 
with  the  title  "Censura  Candidatorum"  in  large  black  letters, 
and  said, 

"Read,  your  lordship,  let  this  letter  be  my  answer." 

The  Vice-Chancellor  then  began  to  depart,  but  Zagloba 
detained  him,  saying,  "Allow  me,  Your  Highness,  to  say 
something  more.  In  the  first  place,  I  thank  God  that  the 
minor  seal  is  in  hands  that  can  knead  men  like  wax." 

"How  so?"  asked  the  Vice-Chancellor  in  surprise. 

"In  the  second  place  I  will  acknowledge  in  advance  to 
Your  Highness  that  the  candidacy  of  Prince  Michael  is  greatly 
to  my  liking,  for  I  knew  his  father  well,  and  loved  and  fought 
under  him  with  my  friends;  who  also  will  be  greatly  pleased 
with  the  thought  of  showing  the  son,  the  love  they  bore  to 
the  father.  Therefore,  I  heartily  embrace  this  candidature 
and  this  very  day  will  speak  with  the  Vice-Chamberlain,  Pan 
Kshytski,  a  man  of  high  rank  and  a  friend  of  mine,  who 
has  great  weight  with  the  nobles,  for  it  is  difficult  not  to  love 
him.  We  will  both  do  all  that  we  can;  and  God  grant  that 
we  shall  be  able  to  effect  something." 

"May  the  angels  watch  over  you,"  said  the  Vice-Chancellor; 
"If  you  manage  that,  we  can  expect  nothing  more." 


126  PAX  MICHAEL. 

"With  Your  Highness's  permission,  I  will  say  one  thing 
more,  namely,  that  Your  Highness  should  not  think  thus: 
'I  have  put  my  own  desires  into  his  mind;  I  have  succeeded 
in  making  him  imagine  that  the  candidature  of  Prince 
Michael  was  his  own  initiative.  In  a  word,  I  have  moulded 
the  blockhead  like  wax/  Your  Highness  I  will  forward  the 
cause  of  Prince  Michael,  because  I  desire  it.  What  then? 
Because  I  see  it  is  also  Your  Highness's  desire.  I  will  for- 
ward it  for  the  sake  of  the  Dowager  Princess,  his  mother, 
for  the  sake  of  my  own  friend.  I  will  forward  it  on  acount 
of  my  confidence  in  the  head  (here  Zagloha  bowed)  from 
which  this  Minerva  sprang  forth,  but  not  because  I  allowed 
myself  to  be  persuaded  like  a  child  that  the  initiative  is  my 
own;  and  lastly  not  because  I  am  an  idiot,  but  because  when 
a  wise  man  says  a  wise  thing  to  me,  I  say,  precisely." 

Here  the  old  noble  bowed  again.  At  first  the  Vice-Chan- 
cellor  was  considerably  discomposed,  but  seeing  the  good 
humor  of  the  old  noble  and  recognizing  that  the  affair  was 
taking  the  turn  he  wanted,  he  laughed  heartily,  and  putting 
his  hands  up  to  his  head  he  cried: 

"Ulysses,  as  I  love  God,  a  regular  Ulysses!  Brother  the 
man  who  wants  to  do  a  good  thing  must  deal  differently 
with  different  men,  but  I  see  that  with  you  it  is  necessary 
to  go  straight  to  the  point.  I  am  delighted  with  you." 

"As  I  am  with  Prince  Michael." 

"God  give  you  good  health!  Aha!  I  am  vanquished,  but 
I  am  glad  of  it.  You  must  have  eaten  many  a  starling  in 
your  youth.  .  .  .  And  this  signet  ring — if  it  will  serve 
as  a  memento  of  our  conversation — 

"Let  that  remain  where  it  is,"  said  Zagloba. 

"You  will  do  this  for  me? — 

"By  no  means.  .  .  .  Another  time  perhaps  ..  .  later 
.  .  .  After  the  election.  ... 

The  Vice-Chancellor  comprehended,  and  insisted  no  fur- 
ther; he  departed  however  with  a  radiant  countenance. 

Zagloba  accompanied  him  to  the  gate  and  muttered  as  he 
re-entered: 

"Aha!  I  taught  him  a  lesson.  One  rogue  met  another. 
But  it  no  great  honor.  Important  people  will  fall  over  each 
other  in  their  haste  to  enter  these  doors.  I  am  anxious  to 
know  what  the  ladies  think  of  this." 

The  ladies  were  in  fact  enchanted,  and  Zagloba  rose  enor- 
mously, particularly  in  the  eyes  of  Pan  Michael's  sister,  so 
that  he  had  scarcely  appeared  when  she  rapturously  cried: 


PAN   MICHAEL.  I2*j 

"You  have  surpassed  Solomon  himself  in  wisdom." 

Zagloba  was  highly  gratified. 

"Whom  have  I  surpassed,  did  you  say?  Wait  until  you  see 
Hetmen,  bishops,  and  senators  here,  I  shall  have  to  keep  out 
of  their  way,  or  hide  behind  the  curtain." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance 
of  Ketling. 

"Ketling,  are  you  anxious  for  advancement?"  cried  Za- 
globa, still  enchanted  with  his  own  importance. 

"No,"  replied  the  fcnight  sadly,  "for  I  must  again  leave 
you,  and  for  a  long  time." 

Zagloba  gazed  at  him  with  a  scrutinizing  glance. 

"How  is  it  that  you  are  so  pulled  down?" 

"Simply  because  I  have  to  go  away." 

"Where  to?" 

"I  have  received  despatches  from  Scotland,  from  old 
friends  of  my  father  and  myself.  I  am  absolutely  needed 
there  on  business  affairs,  perhaps  for  a  long  time.  .  .  . 
It  grieves  me  to  part  with  you  all,  but  I  must  go!" 

Zagloba  advanced  to  the  middle  of  the  room,  gating  first 
at  Pan  Michael's  sister  and  then  at  the  others  and  asked: 

"Did  you  hear?  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  Amen." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

While  Zagloba  was  astonished  to  learn  of  Ketling's  in- 
tended departure,  his  suspicions  were  not  aroused;  it  would 
be  natural  enough  for  Charles  II  to  remember  the  service 
which  the  Ketling  family  had  given  to  the  throne  in  troublous 
times,  and  to  wish  to  show  some  gratitude  to  their  only  de- 
scendant. Indeed  it  would  be  strange  if  he  were  indifferent. 
Moreover,  Zagloba  had  been  thoroughly  convinced  of  this  by 
some  letters  from  over  the  sea,  which  Ketling  had  shown  him. 

In  some  respects  the  old  noble's  plans  were  jeopardized  by 
this  journey,  and  he  was  very  much  alarmed  about  the  future. 
From  what  he  said  in  his  letter  Pan  Michael  might  return  at 
any  moment. 

"The  winds  of  the  steppes  have  blown  away  the  last  remains 
of  his  grief,"  Zagloba  said  to  himself.  "He  will  return  more 
resolved  than  when  he  left,  and  because  the  deuce  is  attract- 
ing him  more  forcibly  than  ever  to  Krysia,  he  will  be  sure 
to  propose  to  her  at  once.  And  then! — then  Krysia  will  con- 
sent, for  how  could  she  refuse  such  a  cavalier,  and  who  is, 
moreover,  Pani  Makovyetska's  brother?  And  now  my  dear- 
est little  haiduk  will  be  left  out  in  the  cold." 

With  the  obstinacy  usual  to  old  people,  Zagloba  had  deter- 
mined to  unite  Basia  to  the  little  knight  at  all  costs. 

Neither  the  persuasions  of  Pan  Yan,  nor  those  which  he 
occasionally  tried  upon  himself  were  of  any  avail.  Sometimes 
he  would  vow  never  to  interfere  again;  but,  involuntarily,  his 
thoughts  would  return  with  more  insistence  than  ever  to  the 
union  of  this  couple.  For  whole  days  he  pondered  upon 
means  of  accomplishing  it;  he  schemed;  he  invented  strata- 
gems. And  he  became  so  absorbed  in  the  idea,  that  when  he 
fancied  he  saw  the  means,  he  would  suddenly  exclaim  as 
though  everything  were  settled: 

"May  God  bless  you!" 

But  now  Zagloba  thought  his  hopes  were  shattered.  There 
was  nothing  to  do  but  give  up  his  purpose  and  leave  the  future 
to  God;  for  the  glimmer  of  hope,  that,  before  goingj,  Ketling 

(!28) 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


I29 


might  take  some  decided  measure  with  regard  to  Krysia,  soon 
faded  away.  Therefore,  it  was  only  in  sadness  and  curiosity 
that  he  decided  to  ask  the  young  knight  when  he  intended 
to  take  his  departure  from  the  Commonwealth,  and  what  he 
was  going  to  do  before  leaving. 

Having  opened  the  conversation  with  Ketling,  Zagloba 
said,  with  a  grieved  expression: 

"An  awkward  position!  Each  man  knows  his  own  business 
best,  and  I  will  not  beg  you  to  stay  here;  but,  at  least,  I  may 
ask  something  about  your  r.eturn?"  .  .  . 

"How  do  I  know  what  awaits  me  in  the  country  to  which 
I  am  going?"  answered  Ketling, — "what  transactions,  and 
what  adventures.  ...  I  will  return  some  day,  if  I  can.  I 
will  remain  there  permanently,  if  I  must." 

"You  will  discover  that  your  heart  will  bring  you  back  to 
us." 

"God  grant  that  my  grave  will  be  in  no  other  land  but  this 
one,  which  had  given  me  all  that  there  is  to  give." 

"Ah,  you  understand!  In  all  other  countries  a  foreigner 
is  only  a  step-son,  but  our  mother-country  opens  her  arms  to 
you  and  cherishes  you  as  if  you  were  her  own." 

"True,  perfectly  true!  Ah!  if  I  only  could  .  .  .  In  the 
old  country  everything  else  may  come  to  me,  but  happiness, 
never." 

"Ah!  I  told  you,  'Get  married;  settle  down.'  You  would 
not  listen  to  me.  Now  if  you  were  married,  even  if  you  did 
go  away,  you  would  be  obliged  to  return,  unless  you  took  your 
wife  with  you  through  the  raging  waves;  and  1  do  not  suppose 
you  would  do  that.  I  gave  you  my  advice,  but  vou  wouldn't 
take  it." 

Here  Zagloba  looked  searchingly  into  Ketling's  face,  as  if 
to  draw  forth  some  explanation,  but  Ketling  was  silent;  he 
only  lowered  his  head  and  looked  down  with  a  fixed  glance. 

"What  do  you  say  to  that?"  asked  Zagloba,  presently. 

"T  had  no  opportunity  to  follow  it,"  replied  the  young 
knipfht,  deliberately. 

Zagloba  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  and  stopping  in 
front  of  Ketling,  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  said: 

""But  I  say  you  had.  If  you  had  not,  may  I  never  again 
gird  myself  with  this  belt!  Krysia  is  attached  to  you!" 

"God  grant  she  remains  so!  though  the  sea  rolls  between 
us." 

"Wriat  do  you  mean  by  that?" 
9 


MICHAEL. 

"Oh,  nothing,  nothing!" 

"Have  you  spoken  to  her?" 

"Give  me  peace.  I  am  even  now  terribly  sad  because  I  am 
obliged  to  go." 

"Ketling,  would  you  like  me  to  question  her  while  there  is 
still  time?" 

Ketling  began  to  think  that  if  Krysia  was  so  anxious  to 
keep  their  love  secret,  she  might  possibly  be  glad  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  disavowing  it  openly,  and  he  therefore  replied: 

"I  assure  you  that  it  would  be  useless;  and  I  am  quite  posi- 
tive that  I  have  got  over  my  own  feeling;  but  if  you  would 
like  a  miracle,  then  ask  her." 

"Oh,  if  you  have  driven  her  out  of  "your  mind,"  said  Zag- 
loba,  somewhat  bitterly,  "in  that  case  there  is  nothing  more 
to  be  said.  Only,  allow  me  to  tell  you  that  I  looked  on  you 
as  a  man  of  the  greatest  constancy." 

Ketling  rose  and  extended  his  arms  excitedly,  saying,  with 
a  vehemence  quite  foreign  to  him: 

"What  would  it  avail  for  me  to  wish  for  one  of  those  stars? 
I  cannot  fly  up  and  get  it  and  it  cannot  drop  down  to  me. 
Alas,  for  those  who  sigh  for  the  silver  moon!" 

Zagloba  grew  so  angry  that  he  began  to  snort.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  could  not  speak,  and  it  was  only  after  he  had  swal- 
lowed a  little  of  his  anger  that  he  exclaimed  in  a  broken  voice: 

"My  dear  Ketling,  don't  consider  me  a  fool;  if  you  have 
your  reasons,  tell  them  to  me,  not  as  to  a  madman,  but  as  to 
a  man  who  lives  on  bread  and  meat.  Suppose  I  invent  a  story 
and  tell  you  that  this  cap  of  mine  is  the  moon,  and  that  as  I 
cannot  reach  it  with  my  hand,  I  must  go  about  the  city  with 
my  bald  head  bare,  letting  the  frost  nip  my  ears  like  a  dog. 
I  will  not  contend  with  such  reasoning.  But  this  I  do  know: 
the  maiden  lives  three  rooms  away  from  here;  she  eats  and 
she  drinks;  when  she  walks,  she  moves  on,  her  nose  turns  red 
in  the  cold,  and  she  becomes  warm  in  the  heat;  if  a  mosquito 
bites  her,  she  feels  it;  and,  with  regard  to  the  moon,  she  may 
resemble  it  in  the  fact  that  neither  has  a  beard.  But,  ac- 
cording to  your  peculiar  reasoning,  a  turnip  is  an  astrologer. 
As  for  Krysia,  if  you  have  not  tried  to  get  her,  if  you  have 
not  spoken  to  her,  it  is  your  own  fault;  but,  if  you  have  ceased 
to  love  the  girl  and  are  going  away  calling  her  the  'moon/ 
then  I  hope  your  honesty  and  wit  may  cherish  any  weed  you 
happen  to  find, — and  that  is  all  I  have  to  say." 

Ketling^s  reply  to  this  was: 


PAN   MICHAEL.  l^i 

"The  food  you  arc  giving  me  is  very  bitter,  and  not  at  all 
sweet.  I  go  because  1  must;  1  do  not  speak  to  her,  because 
I  have  nothing  to  say  to  her.  You  misjudge  me  cruelly  .  .  . 
God  knows  how  unjustly!" 

"Of  course,  Ketling,  I  know  that  you  are  an  honorable  man; 
but  I  cannot  understand  your  ways.  When  I  was  young,  a 
man  would  go  to  a  maiden,  and,  gazing  into  her  eyes,  would 
repeat  this  rhyme: 

'If  you  love  me,  together  we  will  live; 
If  not,  for  you,  no  stiver  will  I  give.' 

Each  one  knew  what  was  required  of  him;  and  whoever  was 
diffident  a.nd  not  bold  of  address  sent  a  man  of  more  assur- 
ance to  speak  for  him.  I  offered  you  my  services  and  I  still 
offer  them.  I  will  go  to  her  for  you;  I  will  speak  for  you;  I 
will  bring  you  her  answer,  and  your  going,  or  staying,  will 
depend  upon  what  she  says." 

"I  must  go!    It  must  and  will  be  so!" 

"But  you  will  return." 

"No!  Please  have  the  kindness  to  say  nothing  more  about 
this.  ...  If  you  want  to  question  her  for  your  own  satis- 
faction, all  well  and  good,  but  not  in  my  name." 

"For  GocPs  sake!    Have  you  already  spoken  to  her?" 

"Let  us  talk  no  more  of  this.    Do  me  the  favor." 

"Very  well,  then  let  us  discuss  the  weather.  .  .  May  a 
thunderbolt  strike  you  and  your  ways!  So  then,  you  must 
go  and  I  must  swear." 

"I  bid  you  farewell." 

"Stay,  stay!  My  anger  will  leave  me  in  a  moment.  Wait, 
Ketling,  I  have  something  io  say  to  you.  When  are  you 
going?" 

"Just  as  soon  as  I  can  arrange  my  affairs.  I  should  like 
to  stay  in  Courland  until  the  quarter's  rent;  and  if  any  one 
will  buy  it,  I  will  willing  sell  the  house  in  which  we  have 
all  been  living." 

"Let  Makovyetska  or  Michael  buy  it.  In  God's  name,  I 
hope  you  are  not  going  away  without  seeing  Michael." 

"I  should  be  glad  to  bid  him  adieu,  from  the  bottom  of  my 
heart." 

"He  may  come  at  any  moment.  He  may  influence  you  to- 
ward Krysia." 

Zagloba  paused  suddenly,  for  a  certain  fear  came  into  his 
mind. 


MICHAEL. 

"I  have  been  serving  Michael  with  good  intentions/'  he 
said  to  himself,  "but  horribly  against  his  will,  if  trouble  is  to 
come  between  him  and  Ketling,  I  had  better  let  Ketling  go." 
Here  Zagloba  rubbed  his  hand  over  his  bald  head;  then  he 
continued  aloud: 

"All  that  I  have  said  was  in  pure  good  will.  I  am  so  much 
in  love  with  you  that  I  would  like  to  keep  you  here  at  all 
hazards, — and  that  is  the  reason  I  have  tempted  you  with 
Krysia,  as  if  she  were  a  bit  of  bacon.  But  that  was  only  out 
of  good  will.  .  .  .  What  does  it  matter  to  an  old  man  like 
me?  .  .  .  Indeed,  it  was  only  out  of  good  will  .  .  . 
nothing  more.  I  am  not  a  match-maker;  if  I  were,  I  should 
have  made  a  match  for  myself.  Kiss  me,  Ketling,  and  don't 
get  angry." 

Ketling  embraced  Zagloba,  who  had  become  very  affection- 
ate. The  latter  ordered  a  flask  of  wine,  saying: 

"We  will  drink  every  day  to  your  journey." 

Then  they  drank.  After  a  time,  Ketling  bade  him  good- 
bye, and  took  his  leave.  The  wine  had  stimulated  Zagloba's 
fancy;  he  began  to  think  about  Basia,  Krysia,  Pan  Michael, 
and  Ketling;  in  fancy  he  married  them  and  blessed  them; 
and  finally  he  wanted  to  be  with  the  young  ladies  so  much 
that  he  exclaimed: 

"Well,  I  will  go  and  see  those  kids."    .    .    . 

The  young  ladies  were  sitting  in  the  room  across  the  hall, 
sewing.  After  greeting  them,  Zagloba  walked  up  and  down 
the  room  dragging  one  foot  after  the  other  somewhat  heavily, 
for  wine  always  made  him  a  little  unsteady.  Every  now  and 
then  he  glanced  at  the  girls'  who  were  sitting  so  close  to 
each  other  that  Basia's  bright  head  almost  touched  Krysia's 
dark  one.  Basia's  eyes  followed  him,  but  Krysia,  was  sewing 
so  industriously  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  follow  her 
flashing  needle. 

"H'm!"  ejaculated  Zagloba. 

"H'm!"  Basia  echoed. 

"Don't  mock  me;  for  I  am  very  angry." 

"Oh  dear,  he'll  certainly  cut  'off  my  head,"  cried  Basia, 
pretending  to  be  frightened. 

"Knock!  Knock!  I'll  cut  off  your  tongue,— that's  what 
I'll  do!" 

So  saying,  Zagloba  approached  the  young  ladies,  and,  pla- 
cing his  hands  upon  his  hips,  demanded  suddenly: 

"Do  you  want  Ketliug  for  your  husband?" 


PAN   MJC1IAEL.  j33 

!8,  five  like  him,"  replied  Basia,  quickly. 

"lie  quiet,  midge,  I'm  not  speaking  to  you.  I  am  talking 
to  you,  Krysia.  Do  you  want  Ketling  for  your  husband?" 

Krysia  had  become  somewhat  pale,  though  at  first  she 
thought  that  Zagloba  was  not  addressing  her,  but  Basia; 
then  she  raised  her  beautiful  dark  blue  eyes  to  the  old  Noble's 
face. 

"No,"  she  calmly  answered. 

"Well,  no!  pray  no!  short,  at  least,  pray!  pray!  And  why 
does  not  your  ladyship  want  him?" 

"I  don't  want  anybody." 

"Krysia,  dear,  tell  some  one  else  that,"  cried  Basia. 

"What  has  brought  the  married  state  into  such  disfavor 
with  you?"  Zagloba  questioned  further. 

"Not  dfsfavor;  I  have  a  vocation  for  the  religious  life," 
Krysia  replied. 

Her  voice  was  so  full  of  sadness  and  seriousness,  that 
Basia  and  Zagloba  did  not  for  a  moment  imagine  that  she 
was  jesting;  but  they  were  both  so  amazed  that  they  gazed 
at  each  other,  and  Krysia. 

"Eh?"  Zagloba  was  the  first  to  exclaim. 

"I  want  to  take  the  veil,"  repeated  Krysia  gently. 

Basia  looked  at  her  once  and  again,  then  she  only  threw 
her  arms  around  her  neck,  pressed  her  rosy  lips  to  her  cheeks, 
and  exclaimed,  "Krysia!  I  shall  weep.  Tell  me  quickly  that 
your  words  are  only  empty  air;  I  shall  weep,  as  there  is  a 
God  in  Heaven,  I  shall." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

After  leaving  Zagloba,  Ketling  went  to  Pan  Michael's  sister 
and  informed  her  that  he  must  stay  in  the  city  on  account  of 
important  business,  and  perhaps  also  before  finally  departing, 
he  would  go  to  Couiiand  for  some  weeks,  and  therefore  he 
would  be  unable  to  play  the  host  in  person  any  longer  in  his 
suburban  home.  But  he  begged  her  to  regard  that  home  as 
her  own  still  and  to  occupy  it  with  her  husband  and  Pan 
Michael  during  the  approaching  election. 

Pani  Makovyetska  accepted,  for  otherwise  the  house  would 
be  empty  and  of  no  use  to  any  one. 

After  this  conversation,  Ketling  disappeared,  and  was  not 
to  be  seen  any  more  either  at  the  inn  or  anywhere  about 
Mokotov,  when  Pani  Makovyetska  and  the  young  ladies  re- 
turned to  the  suburbs.  Krysia  alone  felt  his  absence,  Zagloba 
was  absorbed  with  the  approaching  election,  while  Basia 
and  Pan  Michael's  sister  had  taken  Krysia's  sudden  resolve 
so  much  to  heart,  that  they  could  think  of  nothing  else. 

Nevertheless,  Pani  Makovyetska  did  not  even  attempt  to 
dissuade  Krysia  from  the  step  and  doubted  whether  her  hus- 
band would  oppose  it,  for  at  that  period,  people  regarded  op- 
position to  such  a  determination  in  the  light  of  an  injury 
and  offence  against  the  Almighty.  Only  Zagloba,  notwith- 
standing his  piety,  would  have  ventured  to  protest  had  it  been 
his  affair,  but  as  it  was  not,  he  sat  quietly  by,  and  was  secretly 
satisfied  that  matters  had  so  arranged  themselves  to  remove 
Krysia  from  the  path  of  Pan  Michael,  and  the  little  haiduk. 
Zagloba  was  now  assured  of  the  eventful  fulfillment  of  Jiis 
secret  wishes,  and  was  free  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  the 
affairs  of  the  election;  he  visited  the  Nobles  who  had  arrived 
at  the  capital,  or  held  long  conversations  with  the  Vice- 
chancellor,  whom  he  came  to  like  very  much,  and  became  his 
confidant. 

After  every  additional  conversation,  he  returned  home  more 
zealously  devoted  to  the  Pole,  and  more  hostile  than  ever  to 
foreigners.  In  accordance  with  the  advice  of  the  Vice-Chan- 

(134) 


PAN   MICHAEL.  !35 

cellor,  he  had  so  far  concealed  this  aversion,  that  not  a  day 
passed  without  his  winning  over  another  supporter  for  the 
secret  candidate,  and  what  often  happens  in  such  cases,  hap- 
pened here  also.  He  became  so  interested  that  this  candi- 
dature became  the  greatest  object  of  his  life  after  the  union 
of  Basia  and  Pan  Michael. 

Meanwhile  the  election  was  rapidly  approaching. 

Spring  had  already  freed  the  rivers  from  ice;  the  breezes 
had  begun  to  blow  soft  and  warm;  under  their  breath  the 
trees  were  covered  with  buds,  and  flocks  of  swallows  were 
forming  a  chain  with  their  wings  to  dart  at  any  moment,  ac- 
cording to  Folklore,  from  the  cold  depths  of  the  ocean  into 
the  sunny  world.  People  were  beginning  to  arrive  for  the 
election,  in  company  with  the  swallows  and  other  birds  of 
passage. 

First  came  the  merchants,  who  had  prospects  of  a  rich  har- 
vest of  gain  in  a  spot  where  more  than  half  a  million  people 
were  about  to  congregate,  including  dignitaries  with  their 
retinues,  nobles,  servants,  and  military.  English,  Dutch,  Ger- 
mans, Russians,  in  addition  to  Tartars,  Turks,  Armenians, 
and  even  Persians,  also  came,  bringing  cloth,  linen,  damask, 
brocades,  furs,  jewels,  perfumes  and  sweet  meats.  Tents  arose 
in  the  streets  and  beyond  the  city,  containing  every  kind  of 
merchandise.  Some  bazaars  were  even  erected  in  the  suburbs; 
for  it  was  well  known  that  the  inns  of  the  capital  could  not 
accommodate  one-tenth  of  the  attendants  at  the  election,  and 
that  an  enormous  overplus  would  encamp  beyond  the  walls, 
as  always  happened  during  the  election. 

Lastly  so  many  nobles  began  to  arrive  that  if  they  had  pro- 
ceeded in  such  numbers  to  the  border  of  the  Commonwealth 
no  enemy  would  ever  have  been  able  to  put  his  foot  across  it. 

It  was  rumored  that  the  election  would  be  a  stormy  one, 
for  the  whole  country  was  split  up  between  three  principal 
candidates — Conde,  and  the  Princes  of  Neuberg,  and  Lor- 
raine. It  was  said  that  each  faction  would  use  every  endeavor 
to  elect  its  own  candidate  even  by  force  if  necessary. 

Everybody  became  alarmed;  factional  bitterness  inflamed 
every  heart;  civil  war  was  prophesied  by  some,  and  these 
forebodings  met  with  credence,  on  account  of  the  tremendous 
following  with  which  the  great  men  had  surrounded  them- 
selves. These  arrived  early,  so  as  to  allow  themselves  time  for 
all  kinds  of  machinations.  At  the  times  when  the  Common- 
wealth was  in  danger,  when  the  foe  was  holding  a  knife  to 


!36  PAN   MICHAEL. 

its  throat,  neither  king  nor  Hetman  could  bring  more  than 
a  miserly  handful  of  men  against  him;  but  now,  notwith- 
standing the  laws  and  decrees,  the  Radzivills  alone  came  with 
a  following  of  more  than  twenty  thousand  troops.  The  Patsovs 
had  almost  as  many;  the  powerful  Pototskis  were  corning 
with  an  equal  force;  other  princelings  of  Poland,  Lithuania, 
and  Eussia  were  coming  with  scarcely  inferior  forces. 

"When  wilt  thou  find  a  haven,  0  dismantled  ship  of  my 
county?"  frequently  exclaimed  the  Vice-Chancellor,  Olshov- 
ski;  but  his  heart  also -harbored  selfish  aims.  The  aristocracy, 
corrupt  to  tne  marrow  of  their  bones,  with  very  few  excep- 
tions, had  only  thought  for  themselves  and  for  the  power  of 
their  own  houses,  and  were  willing  to  rouse  the  whirlwind  of 
civil  war  at  any  moment. 

The  crowd  of  nobles  daily  increased;  and  it  was  manifest 
that  when  the  Diet  should  be  over  and  the  election  commence, 
they  would  outnumber  even  the  greatest  force  of  the  digni- 
taries. But  their  numbers  were  unable  to  bring  the  ship  of 
the  commonwealth  successfully  into  quiet  waters,  for  their 
minds  were  steeped  in  darkness  and  ignorance  and,  for  the 
most  part,  their  hearts  were  corrupt. 

The  election  therefore,  gave  every  sign  of  being  exciting, 
no  one  imagined  that  it  would  end  tamely,  for  with  the 
exception  of  Zagloba,  even  those  who  were  working  for  the 
Pole,  had  no  idea  to  what  a  'tremendous  extent  they  would 
be  aided  by  the  stupidity  of  the  nobles,  and  the  intrigues  of 
the  dignitaries;  very  few  had  any  hope  of  electing  such  a  can- 
didate as  Prince  Michael.  But  Zagloba  was  as  much  at  home 
in  that  sea  as  a  fish  in  the  water.  From  the  opening  of  the 
Diet,  he  made  his  home  in  the  city,  and  was  only  at  Ketling's 
house  when  he  longed  for  his  little  haiduk;  but  as  Basia's 
joyousness  had  been  dashed  by  Krysia's  resolution,  Zagloba 
occasionally  took  her  with  him  to  the  city,  so  that  she  might 
amuse  herself  and  get  some  pleasure  out  of  looking  at  the 
shops. 

Usually,  they  started  in  the  morning,  and  it  would  be 
frequently  late  in  the  evening  when  Zagloba  brought  her 
back.  Along  the  road,  and  in  the  city  itself,  her  heart  was 
rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  the  merchandise,  the  unaccustomed 
people,  the  variegated  crowds,  and  the  gorgeous  soldiery.  At 
such  times,  her  eyes  would  glow  like  live  coals,  and  her  head 
turned  as  if  on  a  swivel;  she  could  not  get  enough  of  gazing 
at  it  all,  and  deluged  the  old  man  with  questions.  He  was 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


137 


glad  enough  to  satisfy  her,  for  by  that  means,  he  exhibited 
his  knowledge  and  experience.  More  than  once  a  gallant  com- 
pany of  soldiers  surrounded  the  little  carriage  in  which  they 
were  driving;  the  cavaliers  greatly  admired  Basia' s  ready  wit 
and  determination.,  and  Zagloba  never  failed  to  tell  them  the 
story  of  the  Tartar  she  had  killed  with  duck  shot,  greatly  to 
their  surprise  and  entertainment. 

One  day  they  were  coming  home  very  late,  for  they  had 
spent  the  whole  day  at  the  review  of  the  troops  of  Pan  Felix 
Pototski.  It  was  a  bright  and  warm  night  and  the  fields 
were  shrouded  in  white  mist.  'Zagloba,  though  always  watch- 
ful, since  in  such  a  gathering  of  servants  and  soldiers,  high- 
waymen had  to  be  guarded  against,  had  fallen  sound  asleep, 
and  the  driver  was  half  asleep  also;  Basia  alone  was  wide 
awake,  for  many  things  were  revolving  in  her  brain. 

Suddenly  she  heard  the  tramp  of  horses.  Plucking  Zag- 
loba's  sleeve,  she  said: 

"Some  mounted  men  are  overtaking  us." 

"What,  how,  who?"  cried  the  sleepy  Zagloba. 

"Some  mounted  men  are  coming." 

"Oh,  they  will  soon  catch  us  up." 

"I  can  hear  the  tramp  of  horses;  perhaps  it  is  some  one 
going  in  the  same  direction  as  we  are." 

"I  am  sure  they  are  robbers." 

The  reason  Basia  was  sure,  was  that  she  was  longing  for 
an  adventure  of  some  kind, — outlaws,  and  the  chance  to  show 
her  courage — so  that  when  Zagloba,  muttering  to  himself, 
began  to  reach  for  his  pistols  from  the  seat,  which  he  always 
carried  with  him  for  an  emergency,  she  asked  for  one  too. 

"If  a  robber  approaches,  I  wont  miss  him.  Auntie  is  a 
splendid  shot  with  a  musket,  but  she  can't  see  at  night  time. 
I  could  swear  that  these  are  robbers,  oh,  if  they  would  only 
attack  us!  Be  quick  and  give  me  a  pistol." 

"Very  well!"  replied  Zagloba,  "but  you  must  promise  not 
to  fire  before  I  do,  or  till  I  tell  you.  If  I  give  you  a  pistol,  you 
will  be  likely  to  shoot  the  first  noble  you  see  without  first 
asking  "Who  goes  there?"  and  then  you  will  get  into  trouble 
with  the  law." 

"I  will  first  ask  who  is  there." 

"But  if  some  half-drunken  fellows  should  be  passing,  and 
make  rude  remarks  on  hearing  a  woman's  voice?" 

"I  will  let  fly  with  my  pistol.    Isn't  that  right?" 

"Think  of  taking  such  a  fireeater  to  the  city!  I  tell  you,, 
are  not  to  shoot  without  orders." 


138  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"I  will  ask  'who  goes  there?7  in  such  a  rough  voice  that 
they  won't  recognize  a  woman." 

"All  right  then.  Ha,  I  hear  them  already  approaching. 
You  may  make  up  your  mind  that  they  are  honest  people, 
otherwise,  they  would  attack  us  stealthily  from  the  ditch." 

However,  since  the  roads  really  were  infested  with  outlaws 
and  unpleasant  experiences  were  not  rare,  Zagloba  ordered 
the  driver  to  keep  away  from  the  dark  trees  at  the  turn  of  the 
road,  and  halt  in  a  place  where  it  was  light. 

In  the  meantime,  four  horsemen  had  come  quite  close. 
Then  Basia  cried  menacingly  in  a  deep  voice,  that  she 
thought  would  have  done  honor  to  a  dragoon: 

"Who  goes  there?" 

"Why  have  you  come  to  a  standstill?"  asked  one  of  the 
horsemen,  who  evidently  thought  that  some  accident  must 
have  happened  to  the  carriage  or  harness. 

On  hearing  the  voice,  Basia  dropped  her  pistol  and  said 
hurriedly  to  Zagloba,  "For  Heaven's  sake!  that  must  be 
uncle." 

"What  uncle?" 

"Makovyetska!" 

"Hallo  there!"  cried  Zagloba.  "Isn't  that  Pan  Makhovy- 
etska  and  Pan  Volodiyovski?" 

"Pan  Zagloba!"  cried  the  little  knight. 

"Michael!" 

Here  Zagloba  hurriedly  began  to  alight,  but  before  he 
could  put  one  foot  to  the  ground,  Pan  Michael  had  jumped 
from  his  horse  and  reached  the  side  of  the  carriage.  Recog- 
nizing Basia  in  the  moonlight,  he  grasped  her  by  both 
hands  and  cried: 

"I  greet  you  with  all  my  heart.  And  where  is  Panna  Kry- 
sia,  and  sister.  Are  they  all  well?" 

"Quite  well,  thank  God."  So  you  have  arrived  at  last,  said 
Basia,  with  'her  heart  beating  violently.  "Is  uncle  there 
too?  Our  uncle?" 

Then  she  threw  her  arms  around  the  neck  of  Pan  Makov- 
yetska, who  had  reached  the  carriage,  and  Zagloba  embraced 
Pan  Michael.  After  many  words  of  greeting,  Pan  Makovyet- 
ska was  introduced  to  Zagloba,  and  the  two  travellers  handed 
the  reins  to  their  attendants  and  took  their  seats  in  the  car- 
riage. Makovyetska  and  Zagloba  occupied  the  seat  of  honor 
and  Basia  and  Pan  Michael  sat  facing  them. 

Then  followed  short  questions  and  answers,  as  is  usually 


PAN   MICHAEL.  I39 

the  case  when  people  meet  after  having  been  long  apart.  Pan 
Makovyetska  asked  after  his  wife. 

Pan  Michael  repeated  his  inquiries  about  Panna  Krysia's 
health;  next  he  expressed  his  surprise  at  Ketling's  approach- 
ing departure,  but  he  was  not  allowed  to  dwell  on  it  long,  for 
he  was  deluged  at  once  with  questions  as  to  his  doings  in  the 
border  Stanitsa;  his  attacks  on  the  raiders  from  the  Horde, 
his  home-sickness  and  his  pleasure  in  returning  to  the  old  life. 

"It  seemed  as  if  the  Lubni  times  had  come  again,"  said  the 
little  knight,  "and  that  we  were  still  with  Pan  Yan  and 
Kushel  and  Vyershul;  it  was  only  when  they  brought  me  a 
pail  of  water  to  wash  with  and  I  saw  my  gray  head  reflected 
in  it,  that  I  remembered  that  times  had  changed,  though  I 
said  to  myself,  that  as  long  as  the  spirit  was  the  same,  the 
man  had  not  changed." 

"You  have  hit  on  the  sensible  way  of  looking  at  it,"  cried 
Zagloba.  "It  is  evident  that  your  wits  have  recuperated  on 
fresh  grass,  for  lately  you  have  not  been  so  quick.  The  will 
is  the  great  thing  and  there  is  no  better  remedy  for  melan- 
choly." 

"Quite  true,  quite  true,"  added  Pan  Makovyetska.  There 
is  a  legion  of  well-sweeps  in  Michael's  Stanitsa,  for  there  is  a 
dearth  of  spring  water  there.  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  when  the 
soldiers  at  dawn  begin  to  work  them,  they  make  such  a  noise 
that  your  lordship  would  wake  up,  and  immediately  give 
thanks  to  God  for  the  mere  fact  of  being  alive." 

"Oh  if  I  could  only  be  there  for  one  day,"  cried  Basia. 

"There  is  one  way  to  get  there,"  cried  Zagloba,  "marry  the 
captain  of  the  company." 

"Sooner  or  later  Pan  Adam  will  be  a  captain  of  horse,  "sug- 
gested the  little  knight. 

"Indeed,"  cried  Basia  angrily,  "I  did  not  ask  you  to  bring 
me  Pan  Adam  for  a  present." 

"I  brought  you  something  else,  some  fine  sweetmeats,  they 
will  be  sweet  for  Panna  Basia,  while  out  there,  it  is  bitter  for 
that  poor  fellow. 

"Then  you  ought  to  have  given  the  sweets  to  him.  Let  him 
eat  them  while  his  moustache  is-  growing." 

"Just  imagine,"  said  Zagloba  to  Pan  Makovyetska,  "that's 
the  way  those  two  always  are.  Happily,  the  proverb  says, 
'Those  that  quarrel,  end  with  loving/  '' 

Basia  made  no  reply,  but  Pan  Michael,  as  if  awaiting  an 
answer,  gazed  upon  her  little  face  that  was  illumined  by  the 


1 40  PAN  MICHAEL. 

bright  moonlight.  It  looked  to  him  so  bewitching,  that  in 
spite  of  himself  he  thought: 

"That  little  rogue  is  pretty  enough  to  blind  a  man." 

But  some  other  thought  must  immediately  have  occurred 
to  him,  for  he  turned  to  the  driver  and  cried: 

"Whip  up  the  horses,  and  drive  faster?" 

They  progressed  more  quickly  in  consequence,  and  sat  in 
silence  for  some  time,  and  only  when  they  were  driving  more 
quietly  over  the  sand,  was  Pan  Michael's  voice  again  heard. 

"How  astonished  I  am  at  Ketling's  departure!  And  to 
think  that  it  should  happen  before  I  returned,  and  before  the 
election !" 

"The  English  care  as  much  about  our  election  as  they  do 
about  your  return,"  replied  Zagloba.  "Ketling  himself  is 
quite  knocked  over,  because  he  has  to  go  and  leave  us." 

"Especially  Krysia,"  was  on  the  tip  of  Basia's  tongue,  but 
something  prompted  her  to  say  nothing  about  the  matter,  nor 
about  Krysia's  recent  determination.  With  a  woman's  in- 
stinct she  understood  that  both  questions  would  be  painful 
to  Pan  Michael;  she  felt  a  sudden  pang,  so,  notwithstanding 
her  usual  impulsiveness,  she  held  her  tongue.  He  will  know 
of  Krysia's  resolution  in  any  case,  she  thought,  but  it  would 
be  better  not  to  say  a  word  about  it  now,  since  Pan  Zagloba 
has  not  alluded  to  the  subject. 

The  little  knight  again  turned  to  the  driver. 

"Drive  faster." 

"We  left  our  horses  and  baggage  at  Praga,"  said  Makovyet- 
ska  to  Zagloba,  "and  hastened  on  with  two  attendants,  al- 
though it  was  evening,  for  Michael  and  I  were  in  a  hurry  to 
get  here." 

"I  can  believe  it,"  answered  Zagloba.  "Do  you  see  what 
crowds  have  arrived  at  the  capital?  Beyond  the  gates  the 
camps  and  booths  are  so  thick  that  it  is  difficult  to  get 
through.  There  are  all  sorts  of  marvelous  rumors  about  the 
approaching  election,  which  I  will  tell  you  at  home  at  the 
proper  time." 

Then  they  began  to  talk  politics.  Zagloba  was  maneuvering 
to  get  an  idea  of  Makovyetska's  opinions:  finally  he  turned  to 
Pan  Michael  and  bluntly  asked: 

"Whom  are  you  going  to  vote  for,  Michael?" 

But  instead  of  answering,  Pan  Michael  started  as  if  sud- 
denly awakened,  and  said: 

"I  wonder  if  they  are  asleep,  and  whether  we  shall  see  them 
to-night?'? 


PAN  MICHAEL.  I4I 

"They  are  certainly  asleep,"  answered  Basia,  in  tones  that 
Bounded  gentle  and  sleepy,  "but  they  will  certainly  wake  and 
come  down  to  welcome  you  and  ipicle." 

'•'Do  you  think  so?"  asked  the  little  knight  joyfully. 

He  looked  at  Basia  again,  and  again  the  thought  involun- 
tarily arose: 

"That  little  rogue  looks  bewitching  in  the  moonlight." 

They  were  now  close  to  Ketling's,  and  soon  arrived. 

Pani  Makovyetska  and  Krysia  were  asleep.  A  few  of  the 
servants  were  still  up  with  supper  ready  for  Basia  and  Pan 
Zagloba.  The  house  was  immediately  in  great  commotion; 
Zagloba  gave  orders  to  wake  up  more  servants,  to  have  a  hot 
meal  prepared  for  the  guests. 

Pan  Makovyetska  wanted  to  go  direct  to  his  wife,  but  she 
had  heard  the  unusual  noise  and,  guessing  who  had  arrived, 
hurried  down  in  a  few  moments  with  something  thrown  over 
her,  with  joyful  tears  in  her  eyes,  and  her  face  full  of  smiles; 
then  followed  greetings,  embraces,  and  broken  talk. 

Pan  Michael  kept  his  eyes  on  the  door  through  which 
Basia  had  disappeared,  and  at  which  at  any  moment  he  was 
hoping  to  see  Krysia,  his  beloved,  beaming  with  joy,  and 
radiant,  with  sparkling  eyes  and  hair  hurriedly  coiled  up;  how- 
ever, the  Dantzig  clock  in  the  dining-room  ticked  on  and  on, 
and  an  hour  passed;  supper  came  in,  without  the  appearance 
of  her  who  was  so  dear  to  Pan  Michael. 

Finally  Basia  entered  alone,  looking  somewhat  serious 
and  troubled;  she  went  to  the  table,  took  a  light,  and  turned 
to  Pan  Makovyetska: 

"Krysia  is  not  very  well,  and  won't  come  down;  but  she 
begs  uncle  to  come  to  her  door,  so  that  she  may  call  out  her 
welcome  to  him." 

Pan  Makovyetska  immediately  arose  and  went  out,  followed 
by  Basia. 

The  little  knight  was  greatly  crestfallen  and  said: 

"I  surely  thought  I  should  have  seen  Panna  Krysia  to- 
night. Is  she  really  ill?" 

"Oh,  she's  well  enough,"  his  sister  replied,  "but  she  doesn't 
take  any  interest  in  people  now." 

"What  do  you  say?" 

"Then  Pan  Zagloba  did  not  remember  to  tell  you  her  reso- 
lution?" 

"What  resolution?    Good  Heavens!" 

"She  is  going  to  take  the  veil." 


142 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


Pan  Michael's  eyes  began  to  blink  in  a  dazed  manner  and  a 
great  change  came  over  his  face;  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
then  sat  down  again.  Great  drops  of  sweat  broke  out  on  his 
face  and  he  wiped  them  away  with  his  hand.  A  deep  silence 
fell  on  the  room. 

"Michael!*5  cried  his  sister.  But  he  gazed  in  a  dazed  man- 
ner at  her  and  Zagloba  in  turn,  and  at  last  cried  out  in  a 
dreadful  voice: 

"Is  some  curse  hanging  over  me?" 

"Put  your  trust  in  God,"  said  Zagloba. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

That  exclamation  revealed  the  little  knight's  secret  to  Zag- 
loba  and  Pani  Makovyetska,  and  when  he  suddenly  jumped 
up  and  went  out  of  the  room,  they  gazed  at  each  other  with  a 
troubled  and  vacant  air  till  at  length  the  lady  cried: 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  go  after  him,  reason  with  him,  and 
comfort  him  or  perhaps  I  had  better  go  myself." 

"Don't  do  that,  madam,"  said  Zagloba.  "He  has  no  need 
of  any  of  us,  but  Krysia,  and  if  he  cannot  see  her,  it  is  better 
to  leave  him  alone,  for  unless  comfort  is  timely,  it  only  leads 
to  greater  despair." 

It  is  as  plain  as  day  to  me  now,  that  he  was  in  love  with 
Krysia.  I  knew  that  he  was  very  fond  of  her,  and  sought  her 
society,  but  it  never  came  into  my  head  that  he  was  so  far 
gone." 

"He  must  have  come  back  with  the  intention  of  proposing, 
his  happiness  depending  upon  it,  when  he  was  struck,  as  it 
were,  by  a  thunderbolt." 

"Why  didn't  he  say  a  word  about  it  to  anyone,  either  me, 
or  you,  or  even  Krysia  herself.  It  might  be  that  then  she 
would  not  have  taken  her  resolution." 

"It's  very  strange,"  said  Zagloba,  "besides,  he  usually  con- 
fides in  me  and  relies  on  my  judgment  more  than  his  own; 
and  here  he  has  not  only  not  confessed  this  attachment  to  me, 
but  once  he  even  assured  me  that  it  was  nothing  but  friend- 
ship." 

"He  always  was  secretive." 

"Then  you  don't  know  him,  even  if  you  are  his  sister.  His 
heart  is  on  the  surface,  like  the  eyes  of  a  flounder.  I  never 
knew  a  franker  man,  but  in  this  case,  I  admit  that  he  has 
acted  differently.  Are  you  sure  that  he  hasn't  said  anything 
to  Krysia?" 

"Almighty  God!  Krysia  is  her  own  mistress,  for  my  hus- 
band in  the  capacity  of  guardian  has  often  said  to  her,  "So 
long  as  the  man  is  worthy  and  of  good  birth,  you  need  not 
care  about  what  he  possesses."  If  Michael  had  spoken  to  her 

(143) 


MICHAEL. 

before  lie  went  away,  she  would  have  given  him  an  answer 
one  way  or  the  other,  and  he  would  have  known  how  he 
stood." 

"That's  true,  for  this  has  come  upon  him  unexpectedly. 
Now  put  your  woman's  wits  to  work  in  the  matter." 

"What  will  wits  avail  here.     Council  is  needed  here." 

"Let  him  take  Basia." 

"But  if  he  prefers  the  other,  as  he  evidently  does, — Oh,  if 
I  had  only  had  an  inkling  of  it!" 

"It's  a  pity  that  you  didn't." 

"How  could  I,  when  it  didn't  even  occur  to  such  a  Solomon 
as  yourself." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"You  advised  Ketling." 

"I,  God  is  my  witness  that  I  advised  no  one.  I  said  that 
he  was  attracted  to  her,  and  that  was  true;  I  said  that  Ket- 
ling was  a  worthy  knight,  and  that  was  true;  but  I  leave 
matchmaking  for  the  fair  sex.  Madame,  at  the  present  time, 
half  the  Commonwealth  is  resting  on  my  shoulders.  Have  I 
the  time  to  think  of  anything  else  but  public  affairs?  Fre- 
quently I  haven't  even  time  to  take  a  mouthful." 

"For  God's  sake  advise  us  now.  On  every  hand,  I  hear 
nothing  but  that  there  is  no  head  like  yours,  sir." 

"People  are  everlastingly  talking  about  this  head  of  mine, 
they  might  leave  it  alone  for  a  time.  As  for  advice  there  are 
two  alternatives.  Either  let  Michael  take  Basia,  or  let  Krysia 
alter  her  resolve;  a  resolve  is  not  a  marriage."  At  this  point, 
Pan  Makovyetska  entered  and  his  wife  immediately  told  him 
everything.  He  was  greatly  troubled,  for  he  was  very  fond 
of  Pan  Michael  and  greatly  valued  him.  But  he  couldn't 
think  of  any  help  for  the  time  being. 

"If  Krysia  is  obstinate,"  he  said,  thoughtfully  stroking  his 
brow,  "what  good  will  arguments  do  in  the  matter?" 

"Krysia  will  be  obstinate,"  said  Pani  Makovyetska.  "She 
always  has  been." 

"What  was  Pan  Michael  thinking  about,  not  to  make  cer- 
tain before  going  away?"  asked  Pan  Makovyetska."  Some- 
thing even  worse  might  have  happened  by  leaving  matters  in 
that  condition.  Her  heart  might  have  been  won  by  another 
in  his  absence." 

"In  that  case,  she  would  not  immediately  have  made  up  her 
mind  to  take  the  veil,"  answered  Pani  Makovyetska.  "She  is 
free,  however." 


tf    MICHAEL. 


"True,"  her  husband  replied. 

But  lid  it  was  already  breaking  in  on  Zagloba.  If  he  had 
known  of  the  secret  bet-ween  Krysia  and  Pan  Michael,  every- 
thing would  have  been  clear  at  once,  but  not  knowing  it, 
everything  was  confused.  Still,  his  sharp  wits  began  to  pene- 
trate the  clouds  and  comprehend  Krysia's  real  reasons  and  in- 
tentions, and  Pan  Michael's  despair. 

lie  soon  came  to  feel  certain  that  Ketling  was  concerned  in 
the  affair.  His  suspicions  only  lacked  certainty,  and  he  there- 
fore determined  to  approach  Michael  and  question  him  more 
closely. 

As  he  was  going,  he  was  greatly  troubled,  for  he  reflected: 

"I  am  responsible  for  much  of  this  business.  I  wanted  to 
drink  mead  at  the  wedding  of  Basia  and  Michael,  but  I  am 
by  no  means  certain  that  I  haven't  supplied  sour  beer  instead 
of  mead,  for  now,  Michael  will  go  back  to  his  former  in- 
tention and  take  the  cowl  in  imitation  of  Krysia." 

Here  Zagloba's  blood  ran  cold,  so  he  hurried  on  and  in 
another  moment  was  in  Pan  Michael's  room. 

The  little  knight  was  walking  up  and  down  like  a  wild 
beast  in  a  cage.  There  were  great  wrinkles  in  his  forehead 
and  his  eyes  were  glaring;  he  was  in  terrible  suffering.  When 
he  saw  Zagloba  he  suddenly  stopped  in  front  of  him  and 
placed  his  hands  on  his  breast  crying: 

f*'Tcll  me,  what  does  it  mean?" 

"Michael,"  cried  Zagloba;  "think  how  many  maidens  go  into 
a  convent  every  year;  it's  quite  a  common  thing.  Some  do  it 
against  their  parents'  wishes,  hoping  that  the  Lord  Jesus  will 
approve  of  them  but  in  this  case  what  matter  of  surprise  is 
there,  when  her  will  is  entirely  free." 

"I  won't  keep  it  secret  any  longer,"  cried  Pan  Michael. 
"She  is  not  free,  because  she  promised  me  her  love  and  her 
hand,  before  I  went  away." 

"I  did  not  know  that." 

"It  is  so." 

"Perhaps  she  will  listen  to  reason." 

"She  does  not  care  for  me  any  longer,  she  would  not  see 
me,"  cried  Pan  Michael  with  great  grief.  "I  traveled  day 
and  night  to  get  here,  and  she  won't  even  see  me.  What  have 
I  done?  What  sins  are  weighing  me  down  for  God's  anger  to 
pursue  me,  for  the  wind  to  blow  me  about  like  a  withered 
leaf.  One  is  dead  and  another  is  going  into  a  convent.  God 
himself  has  deprived  me  of  both;  it  is  evident  I  am  under  a 
curse.  There  is  mercy  and  love  for  every  man,  except  me." 
10 


I46  PAN    MICHAEL. 

Pan  Zagloba's  heart  quaked  for  fear  that  the  little  knight 
in  his  desperate  grief  might  again  blaspheme  as  he  had  before, 
after  the  death  of  Anusia,  so  to  turn  his  thoughts  in  another 
direction  he  cried: 

"Michael,  don't  doubt  that  there  is  mercy  for  you  as  well, 
and  besides  how  do  you  know  what  the  future  has  in  store 
for  you?  Perhaps  this  very  same  Krysia  will  remember  your 
desolation  and  alter  her  mind  and  keep  her  promise  to  you. 
And  then,  listen  to  me  Michael,  is  there  no  consolation  in  the 
thought  that  God,  our  Merciful  Father,  Himself,  is  the  one 
to  deprive  you  of  these  doves  instead  of  a  man  who  walks  the 
earth,  don't  you  think  yourself  that  that  is  better." 

For  answer,  the  little  knight's  lips  began  to  quiver  and  the 
grinding  of  his  teeth  could  be  heard,  as  he  cried,  in  a  choked 
and  broken  voice: 

"If  it  were  a  living  man,  ah,  if  I  could  find  him,  I  would — 
there  would  still  be  vengeance." 

"But  as  it  is,  you  still  have  prayer/7  said  Zagloba.  "Listen 
to  me,  old  friend,  no  one  will  ever  give  you  better  advice. 
Perhaps  God  will  yet  order  everything  for  the  best.  .  .  . 
For  myself,  as  you  know,  I  desired  another  for  you,  but  at  the 
sight  of  your  pain,  I  also  suffer,  and  will  join  you  in  praying 
God  to  console  you  and  soften  the  hard  heart  of  this  lady  to- 
wards you  again." 

Then  Zagloba  began  to  wipe  away  his  tears  which  were 
flowing  in  true  grief  and  friendship.  Could  he  possibly  have 
done  so  at  that  moment,  he  would  have  undone  all  he  had 
already  done  to  get  Krysia  out  of  the  way,  and  he  would  have 
been  the  first  to  give  her  to  Volodiyovski. 

"Listen,"  he  said  after  a  pause,  "have  another  conversation 
with  Krysia,  lay  before  her  your  complaint  and  overwhelming 
grief,  and  may  God  prosper  you.  She  must  have  a  heart  of 
stone  if  she  does  not  take  pity  on  you,  but  I  have  hopes  that 
she  will.  The  veil  is  worthy  of  all  praise,  but  not  when 
woven  out  of  injustice  to  others,  say  that  to  her.  You  will 
see — ah,  Michael,  to-day  you  are  in  tears  and  perhaps  to- 
morrow we  shall  all  be  drinking  at  the  betrothal.  I  am  cer- 
tain that  is  what  it  will  be.  The  maiden  got  lonely,  and  that 
is  how  she  came  to  think  of  the  veil.  She  will  go  to  a  cloister 
sure  enough,  but  one  where  you  will  be  ringing  the  bell  for  a 
christening.  .  .  It  may  be  also  that  she  is  feigning  sickness, 
and  is  only  talking  about  the  veil  for  a  blind.  In  nny  case 
you  have  not  heard  of  it  by  her  own  word  of  mouth,  and  please 


PAN    MICHAEL.  !47 

God,  you  won't,  Ha,  ha!  I  have  it!  You  agreed  to  keep  it 
secret,  and  as  she  did  not  want  to  reveal  it,  she  is  doing  it  for 
a  blind.  As  I  live,  it  is  nothing  but  womanly  cunning." 

Pan  Zagloba's  words  soothed  Pan  Michael's  lacerated  heart 
like  a  healing  balm.  Hope  returned  to  him.  His  eyes  filled 
with  tears.  For  a  long  while  he  was  speechless,  but  when 
lie  had  overcome  his  tears,  he  cast  himself  into  his  friend's 
arms  and  said: 

"Would  to  God,  such"  friends  were  not  so  scarce." 

"I  would  bow  down  the  heavens  for  you.  It  will  be  as  I 
say.  Did  you  ever  know  me  make  a  false  prophecy?  Have 
you  no  confidence  in  my  experience  and  wit?" 

"You  cannot  even  conceive  how  dearly  I  love  her.  Not 
that  I  have  forgotten  the  beloved  dead,  for  I  pray  for  her 
every  day,  but  my  heart  has  grown  as  close  to  this  one  as  a 
fungus  to  a  tree;  she  is  my  love.  How  my  thoughts  have 
been  with  her,  far  away  there  among  the  grasses,  morning, 
noon,  and  night!  At  last,  as  I  had  no  one  to  confide  in,  I 
began  to  talk  to  myself.  As  I  love  God,  even  when  pursuing 
the  Horde  among  the  reeds,  when  galloping  at  full  speed,  my 
thoughts  were  still  with  her." 

"I  believe  it.  In  my  young  days  I  wept  one  of  my  own 
eyes  out  over  a  certain  maiden,  and  what  was  left  of  it  became 
covered  with  a  cataract." 

"Do  not  be  surprised!  I  arrived  here  quite  out  of  breath 
and  the  first  word  I  hear,  is  'the  cloister/  but  I  still  have  faith 
in  persuading  her,  and  in  her  heart,  and  her  word.  What 
was  that  you  said?  'The  veil  is  a  good  thing'  .  .  .  but  made 
of  what?" 

"But  not  when  woven  out  of  man's  injustice." 

"Finely  said!  Why  am  I  never  able  to  make  those  maxims? 
Out  there  in  the  Stanitsa  it  would  have  been  a  good  diversion. 
I  am  in  a  terrible  state  of  dread,  but  you  have  comforted  me. 
I  certainly  agreed  with  her  to  keep  the  matter  secret  and 
therefore  it  is  possible  that  she  talked  about  the  veil  only  for 
the  sake  of  keeping  up  appearances.  Yrou  advanced  another 
very  fine  argument,  but  I  can't  remember  it;  you  have  com- 
forted me  greatly." 

"Then  come  with  me,  or  order  a  flask  to  be  brought  here, 
it  will  do  you  good  after  the  journey." 

They  went  and  sat  drinking  until  late  in  the  night. 

The  next  day  Pan  Volodiyovski  clothed  his  body  in  fine 
raiment  and  his  countenance  in  gravity,  equipped  himself 


I4g  PAN   MICHAEL. 

with  all  the  arguments  that  occurred  to  his  own  mind  as  well 
as  those  which  he  had  got  from  Pan  Zagloba  and  went  into 
the  dining-room  where  they  all  had  their  meals.  Krysia  was 
the  only  one  absent,  but  she  was  not  long  in  appearing;  the 
little  knight  had  scarcely  swallowed  two  spoonfuls  of  soup 
when  the  rustle  of  a  dress  was  heard  through  the  open  door- 
way and  she  entered. 

She  came  so  quickly  that  she  almost  rushed  in.  Her  cheeks 
were  flaming,  her  eye-lids  lowered,  and  her  face  expressed 
anxiety  and  alarm.  She  approached  Pan  Michael  and  held 
out  both  hands,  without  raising  her  eyes,  and  when  he  began 
eagerly  to  kiss  them  she  became  very  pale,  and  did  not  utter  a 
single  word  of  welcome. 

But  his  heart  was  filled  with  love  and  fear  and  delight  at 
the  sight  of  her  face,  which  was  as  delicate  and  noble  as  a 
miraculous  image,  and  at  the  sight  of  her  graceful  and  beauti- 
ful figure,  warmed  and  refreshed  by  recent  sleep;  he  was  even 
touched  by  the  alarm  and  confusion  depicted  in  her  coun- 
tenance. 

"Most  precious  floweret,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "why  are 
you  afraid?  I  would  give  my  very  life  and  blood  for  you." 

But  he  did  not  say  it  aloud,  he  only  pressed  his  pointed 
little  moustache  so  long  to  her  hands,  that  he  left  red  marks. 

Basia,  who  was  observing  it  all,  purposely  shook  her  golden 
locks  over  her  brow,  so  that  her  emotion  should  not  be 
noticed,  but  no  one  was  paying  any  attention  to  her  then, 
they  were  all  watching  the  other  pair,  and  an  embarrassing 
silence  followed. 

Pan  Michael  was  the  first  to  break  it. 

"The  night  was  sorrowful  and  restless  for  me,"  he  said, 
"because  I  saw  everybody  but  you  yesterday,  and  they  told 
me  such  dreadful  things  about  you,  that  tears  were  closer  to 
me  than  sleep." 

Krysia  became  still  paler  at  such  plain  speech  and,  for  a 
moment,  Pan  Michael  thought  she  was  going  to  faint,  and 
quickly  added: 

"We  must  have  a  talk  over  the  matter,  but  I  won't  say  any 
more  just  now,  in  order  that  you  may  recover  your  composure. 
I  am  not  a  savage  nor  a  wolf,  and  God  knows  how  I  wish  you 
well." 

"I  thank  you!"  whispered  Krysia. 

Pan  Zagloba,  Pan  Makovyetsk*  and  his  wife  began  to 
glance  at  each  other  as  a  signal  to  commence  talking  as  usual, 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


149 


but  it  was  sometime  before  anyone  succeeded  in  finding  a 
word  to  say;  finally  Zagloba  began: 

"It  is  necessary/'  he  said,  turning  to  those  present,  "to  go 
to  the  city  to-day.  The  coming  election  is  making  it  like 
boiling  water,  for  every  man  is  working  for  his  own  candi- 
date. Along  the  way  I  will  tell  you  who  ought  to  receive 
our  votes,  according  to  my  opinion." 

No  one  made  any  reply  and  so  Zagloba  looked  around  him 
like  an  owl  and  at  last  turned  to  Basia  and  said: 

"And  you,  little  midge,  will  you  go  with  us?" 

"I  will  go  even  to  Kussia,"  cried  Basia  sharply. 

And  silence  again  followed.  The  whole  meal  was  occupied 
with  similar  futile  efforts  to  start  a  conversation;  at  last  they 
all  rose.  Pan  Michael  immediately  approached  Krysia  and 
said: 

"I  must  speak  with  you  in  private." 

He  gave  her  his  arm  and  led  her  into  the  next  room;  the 
same  room  that  had  witnessed  their  first  kiss.  Seating 
Krysia  on  the  divan,  he  took  his  place  beside  her  and  began 
to  stroke  her  hair  as  he  would  have  done  with  a  little  child. 

"Krysia,"  at  last  he  said  gently,  "have  you  recovered  from 
your  confusion?  Can  you  now  answer  me  with  tran quality 
and  composure?" 

She  had  got  over  her  confusion  and  was  moreover  touched 
with  his  kindness,  so  she  raised  her  eyes  to  his  for  a  moment, 
for  the  first  time  since  he  had  returned. 

"I  can,"  she  replied  in  a  low  voice. 

"Is  it  true,  that  you  have  vowed  to  take  the  veil?" 

Krysia  clasped  her  hands  and  said  in  a  beseeching  voice: 

"Do  not  take  it  ill  of  me,  do  not  curse  me,  it  is  true." 

"Krysia,"  said  the  knight,  "is  it  right  for  you  to  trample  on 
the  happiness  of  others,  as  you  are  doing;  where  is  your 
promise?  Where  is  our  engagement?  I  cannot  fight  against 
God,  but  in  the  first  place,  I  will  repeat  what  Zagloba  said  to 
me  yesterday,  'that  the  veil  should  not  be  made  out  of  in- 
justice to  others/  You  will  not  further  God's  glory  by  my 
loss.  God  rules  over  the  whole  world;  all  nations  arc  his. 
His  are  the  sea  and  the  rivers,  the  birds  of  the  air  and  the 
beasts  of  the  field,  the  sun  and  the  stars.  Everything  is  His, 
whatever  enters  the  mind  of  man,  and  more  also,  but  I  only 
have  you,  precious  and  dear,  you  are  my  happiness,  my  all. 
And  can  you  say  that  the  Lord  God  has  need  of  that  treasure. 
He  with  such  possessions  to  deprive  a  poor  soldier  of  his  only 


150 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


treasure!  Can  you  imagine  that  he  will  be  pleased  and  not 
angered.  .  .  Look  what  you  are  giving  him — yourself.  But 
you  belong  to  me,  for  you  promised  yourself  to  me  and  are 
therefore  giving  Him  what  belongs  to  another  and  what  is  not 
your  own;  you  are  giving  him  my  tears,  my  suffering,  perhaps 
my  death.  Have  you  any  right  to  do  this.  Ponder  this  in 
your  heart  and  mind,  and  ask  your  own  conscience.  If  I 
had  sinned  against  you;  if  I  had  done  amiss  in  love,  if  I  had 
forgotten  you,  if  I  had  been  guilty  of  any  crime  or  sin — oh,  I 
will  say  no  more,  I  will  say  no  more.  But  I  went  against  the 
horde  to  keep  watch  to  fight  against  raiders,  to  serve  my 
country  with  my  blood,  my  health,  and  my  days,  and  I  loved 
you,  day  and  night  I  thought  about  you,  and  as  a  hart  pants 
for  the  water-brooks,  as  a  bird  for  the  air,  as  a  child  for  its 
mother,  as  a  parent  for  its  infant,  I  was  pining  for  you.  .  .  . 
And  for  all  this,  what  is  my  reception,  what  is  my  reward  I 
find  prepared  for  me?  Krysia,  dearest,  my  friend,  my  own 
love,  tell  me  the  reason  of  all  this.  Explain  it  as  frankly  and 
truthfully  as  I  have  laid  before  you  my  reasons  and  my  rights. 
Keep  faith  with  me,  leave  me  not  alone  with  misery.  You 
yourself  gave  me  the  rights,  do  not  banish  me." 

The  miserable  Pan  Michael  did  not  understand  that  there 
is  a  right  greater  and  more  lasting  than  any  other  human 
right,  in  accordance  with  which  the  heart  must  and  does  obey 
love  alone;  that  the  heart  which  ceases  to  love,  breaks  faith, 
though  often  as  innocently  as  the  lamp  goes  out  of  itself  when 
the  flame  is  exhausted.  Not  comprehending  this,  Pan 
Michael  put  his  arms  about  Krysia's  knees  and  begged  and 
besought,  but  her  only  answer  was  a  flood  of  tears,  because 
her  heart  could  not  respond  to  his. 

"Krysia,"  at  last  said  the  knight,  rising  to  his  feet,  "my 
happiness  may  drown  in  your  tears.  That  is  not  what  I  ask, 
but  help." 

"Do  not  ask  for  reasons,"  cried  Krysia  between  her  sobs. 
"Do  not  demand  the  cause,  for  it  must  be  so,  it  cannot  be 
otherwise.  I  am  not  worthy  of  such  a  man  as  you,  and  I 
never  have  been.  I  know  that  I  am  doing  you  an  injury,  and 
it  grieves  me  so  dreadfully  that  I  do  not  know  what  to  do.  I 
know  it  is  an  injury,  oh,  Great  God,  my  heart  is  rent,  forgive 
me  and  do  not  leave  me  in  anger.  Give  me  your  pardon  and 
not  your  curses."  Krysia  cast  herself  on  her  knees  before 
Pan  Michael.  "I  know  that  I  am  wronging  you,  but  I  be- 
seech you  to  pity  and  forgive  me. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  I5I 

Here  Krysia's  dark  head  bowed  to  the  floor.  Pan  Michael 
quickly  raised  the  poor  weeping  girl  and  again  placed  her  on 
the  divan  while  he  began  to  stride  up  and  down  the  room  in 
great  agitation.  Now  and  then  he  would  stop  and  press  his 
hands  to  his  temples,  and  then  again  resume  his  walking.  At 
last  he  came  to  a  standstill  before  Krysia. 

"Give  yourself  time,  and  me  hope,"  he  said,  "remember 
that  I  also  am  not  made  of  stone.  Why  pitilessly  sear  me 
with  hot  irons.  Though  I  know  my  fortitude,  yet  when  the 
skin  hisses,  I  feel  the  pain.  .  .  Words  cannot  express  how  I 
suffer.  .  .  .  God  knows  they  can't.  ...  I  am  a  plain  man, 
you  know  my  years  have  been  spent  in  warfare.  .  .  .  Great 
God,  oh  dear  Jesus,  our  love  began  when  in  this  very  house. 
Kshykna!  Kshykna!  I  thought  you  would  be  mine  forever, 
and  now  there  is  nothing,  nothing!  What  has  happened  to 
you,  who  has  changed  your  heart,  Krysu?  I  have  not 
changed.  .  .  .  And  are  you  not  aware  that  this  is  a  harder 
blow  for  me  than  it  would  be  for  another,  for  I  have  already 
lost  one  love?  Oh,  Jesus,  what  can  I  say  to  her,  to  touch  the 
heart!  ...  A  man  only  suffers,  but  leave  me  some  hope  at 
least,  do  not  take  away  everything  at  once." 

Krysia  made  no  reply,  but  sobs  shook  her  more  and  more 
violently;  the  little  knight  stood  before  her,  at  first  repressing 
his  regret  and  fierce  anger.  And  when  he  had  overcome  it, 
he  cried: 

"At  least,  leave  me  some  hope,  do  you  hear  me." 

"I  cannot,  I  cannot,"  Krysia  replied. 

And  Pan  Michael  went  to  the  window  and  pressed  his  head 
against  the  cold  pane.  For  a  long  time,  he  stood  motionless; 
at  last  he  turned  and  made  a  couple  of  steps  towards  Krysia, 
saying  in  very  low  tones: 

"Farewell,  there  is  nothing  for  me  here.  May  you  get  as 
much  happiness  from  it,  as  I  grief.  Let  me  say  this:  I  for- 
give you  with  my  lips,  and  as  God  will  help  me,  I  will  also 
forgive  you  with  my  heart.  But  take  some  pity  upon  the 
suffering  of  others,  and  do  not  make  a  second  promise.  No 
one  can  say  that  I  carry  away  happiness  with  me  from  this 
place.  Farewell." 

Then  his  lips  quivered,  he  bowed,  and  went  out.  In  the 
next  room,  were  Makovyetska  with  his  wife  and  Zagloba;  they 
immediately  arose  inquiringly,  but  he  waved  them  away. 

"Nothing  is  of  any  use,"  he  cried.     "Leave  me  in  peace." 

A  narrow  corridor  led  out  from  there  to  his  own  room.    In 


152 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


it,  by  the  staircase,  leading  up  to  the  ladies'  apartments,  Basia 
stood  in  the  little  knight's  way.  "May  God  comfort  you  and 
alter  Krysia's  heart/'  she  exclaimed  in  a  voice  choked  with 
tears. 

He  passed  her  without  even  a  glance,  or  a  word.  Suddenly 
fierce  anger  took  possession  of  him,  and  bitterness  seized  his 
heart:  he  therefore  turned  and  faced  the  unoffending  Basia 
with  a  countenance  full  of  savage  mockery:  "Promise  your 
hand  to  Ketling,"  he  cried  in  hoarse  tones,  "and  then  cease  to 
love  him,  trample  on  his  heart,  rend  it,  and  then  take  the 
veil/' 

"Pan  Michael,"  cried  Basia  in  amazement. 

"Take  your  pleasure  and  your  fill  of  kisses,  and  then  turn 
to  repentance.  Would  to  God  you  were  both  dead." 

This  was  more  than  Basia  could  bear.  God  alone  knew 
what  this  wish  that  she  had  offered  Pan  Michael  had  cost  her 
— the  wish  that  God  might  alter  Krysia's  heart;  and  her  re- 
ward had  been  mockery  and  insult  at  the  very  moment  when 
she  would  have  given  her  heart's  blood  to  comfort  the  un- 
grateful man.  Consequently  her  spirit  flamed  up  tempes- 
tuously; her  cheeks  burned,  her  nostrils  dilated,  and  without  a 
moment's  reflection,  as  she  shook  her  golden  locks,  she  cried: 

"Understand,  sir,  that  it  is  not  I  who  am  going  to  take  the 
veil  for  Ketling." 

Then  she  sprang  up  the  stairs  and  disappeared. 

The  knight  stood  still  as  if  petrified:  presently,  he  began 
to  rub  his  eyes  like  a  man  just  waking. 

Then  he  thirsted  for  blood;  he  grasped  his  sabre  and  cried, 
with  a  dreadful  voice,  "Woe  to  the  traitor." 

A  few  minutes  later,  Pan  Michael  was  galloping  towards 
Warsaw  so  rapidly  that  the  wind  screamed  in  his  ears,  and 
clods  of  earth  were  flying  in  showers  from  the  hoof  of  his 
horse. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Pan  Makovyetska,  with  his  wife  and  Zagloba  saw  Michael 
ride  away,  and  every  heart  was  anxious;  their  eyes  asked  each 
other,  "What  has  happened?  where  is  he  going?" 

"Great  God,"  cried  Pani  Makovyetska,  "he  will  go  to  the 
steppes,  and  I  shall  never  again  see  him  alive." 

"Or  else  to  the  cloister,  like  that  mad  woman,"  cried  Za- 
globa in  despair. 

"We  must  take  council  here,"  said  Makovyetska.  At  that 
moment  the  door  opened  and  Basia  broke  into  the  room 
like  a  whirlwind,  pale  and  agitated,  with  her  hands  up  to 
both  her  eyes,  and  stamping  on  the  floor  like  a  child,  she 
cried: 

"Help,  help!  He  has  gone  to  kill  K'etling.  Let  him  who 
believes  in  God,  hasten  to  stop  him,  help,  help!" 

"What  is  the  matter  child,"  cried  Zagloba,  seizing  her 
hands. 

"Help,  he  will  kill  Ketling.  Blood  will  be  shed  by  my 
instrumentality,  and  Krysia  will  die,  all  through  me." 

"Speak,"  cried  Zagloba  shaking  her,  "How  do  you  know? 
why,  through  you?" 

"Because,  in  my  anger,  I  told  'him  that  they  are  in  love 
with  each  other,  that  Krysia  is  taking  the  veil  for  Ketling's 
sake.  Let  whoever  believes  in  G-od  stop  them,  hasten  all 
of  you.  Let  us  all  go." 

Zagloba  was  not  accustomed  to  waste  time  on  such  occa- 
sions, he  therefore  hastened  to  the  yard  and  ordered  out  a 
carriage  immediately. 

Pani  Makovyetska  wanted  to  question  Basia  about  the 
exciting  intelligence,  for,  till  that  moment,  she  had  no  sus- 
picion of  the  love  of  Krysia  and  Ketling;  but  Basia  hurried 
after  Zagloba  to  see  to  the  horses  being  harnessed,  she  helped 
to  lead  them  out  and  harness  them  up,  and  finally,  although 
she  had  nothing  on  her  head  she  mounted  to  the  drivers*  box 
before  ill*1  entrance  where  tin1  two  men  were  already  waiting 
read)  for  the  road, 

(-53) 


I54  PAN   MICHAEL. 

"Come  down,"  cried  Zagloba. 

"I  will  not  come  down." 

"Step  down,  I  tell  you." 

"Take  your  seats,  take  your  seats,  if  you  don't  I  will  go 
alone/7  then  she  seized  the  reins,  and  they,  seeing  that  they 
might  be  considerably  delayed  by  her  obstinacy,  stopped 
telling  her  to  come  down. 

Meanwhile  the  driver  came  up  with  a  whip,  and  Pani 
Makovyetska  managed  to  bring  out  a  hat  and  shawl  to 
Basia,  for  it  was  a  cold  day.  Then  they  started.  Basia 
stayed  on  the  driver's  box.  Zagloba  wanted  to  talk  to  her, 
and  asked  her  to  sit  on  the  front  seat,  but  she  was  even  un- 
willing to  do  this,  perhaps  for  fear  of  a  scolding.  Zagloba 
therefore  had  to  address  her  from  a  distance  and  she  an- 
swered him  without  turning  her  head. 

"How  do  you  know  what  you  told  Michael  about  those 
two,"  he  asked. 

"I  know  everything." 

"Did  Krysia  tell  you?" 

"Krysia  did  not  tell  me  anything.' 

"Then  perhaps  the  Scot  did." 

"No,  but  I  know,  and  that's  the  reason  he  is  going  to 
England.  He  fooled  everybody  but  me." 

"It's  very  strange,"  said  Zagloba. 

"It  is  your  doing,"  said  Basia.  "You  should  not  have 
thrown  them  in  each  other's  way." 

"Keep  quiet  there,  and  don't  meddle  in  what  is  not  your 
business,'  'answered  Zagloba,  who  was  cut  to  the  quick  be- 
cause he  received  this  reproach  in  the  presence  of  Mako- 
vyetska. 

"Therefore,"  he  presently  added,  "I  throw  people  together! 
I  give  advice!  Listen  to  that.  I  like  that  idea!" 

"Well,  do  you  mean  to  say  you  did  not?"  she  retorted. 

They  proceeded  in  silence.  Nevertheless  Zagloba  could 
not  get  away  from  the  thought  that  Basia  was  right,  and 
that  to  a  great  extent  he  was  responsible  for  all  that  had 
occurred.  This  thought  greatly  disturbed  him,  and  as  the 
carriage  jolted  horribly,  the  old  gentleman  got  into  an  evil 
mood  and  gave  way  to  self-reproach. 

"It  would  serve  me  right,"  he  thought,  "for  Michael  and 
Ketling  to  join  in  cutting  off  my  ears.  To  induce  .a  man  to 
marry  against  his  will  is  as  bad  as  making  him  ride  with  his 
face  to  the  horse's  tail.  That  midge  is  right.  If  there  is  a 


PAN  MICHAEL.  155 

duel  between  those  two,  Ketling's  blood  will  be  on  my  bead. 
A  fine  business  for  me  to  get  mixed  up  in  in  my  old  age! 
To  the  devil  with  it,  besides,  they  almost  deceived  me,  for  I 
had  scarcely  an  inkling  why  Ketling  was  going  across  the 
sea  and  Krysia  to  a  nunnery,  while  the  little  haiduk  had 
discovered  everything  long  ago  it  seems  .  .  ." 

Then  Zagloba  meditated  in  silence  for  a  time,  and  pre- 
sently muttered: 

"A  rogue  and  not  a  mere  maiden.  Michael  must  have  bor- 
rowed eyes  from  a  crawfish,  to  choose  a  doll  instead  of  such 
a  one." 

Meanwhile  they  arrived  in  the  city,  and  there  their  troubles 
really  commenced.  Not  one  of  them  knew  where  Ketling 
was  staying,  nor  where  Pan  Michael  was  likely  to  go,  to 
hunt  for  either  was  like  hunting  for  one  grain  in  a  bushel 
of  poppy  seed.  They  first  went  to  the  Grand  Hetman's 
mansion.  There  they  learned  that  Ketling  was  to  start  that 
morning  on  a  journey  across  the  sea.  Pan  Michael  had  been 
there  and  made  inquiries  about  the  Scot,  but  where  he  had 
afterwards  gone,  nobody  knew.  Some  imagined  that  he 
might  have  gone  to  the  squadron,  encamped  in  the  field  out- 
side the  city. 

Zagloba  gave  orders  to  proceed  to  the  camp,  but  they  could 
not  get  any  information  there.  They  visited  every  inn  on 
Dluga  street,  they  went  to  Praga,  but  it  was  all  in  vain. 

Meanwhile  night  came  on,  and  since  an  inn  was  not  to 
be  thought  of,  they  were  obliged  to  turn  home.  They  went 
back  greatly  troubled.  Basia  wept  a  little,  and  the  pious 
Makovyetska  said  a  prayer.  Zagloba  was  very  anxious. 
However,  he  did  his  best  to  keep  up  his  own  spirits  and  those 
of  the  others. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "we  are  fretting  and  most  likely  Michael 
is  already  at  home." 

"Or  slain,"  cried  Basia. 

And  wailingly  she  repeated,  "God  cut  my  tongue  out,  it 
was  all  my  fault,  my  fault,  oh  God,  I  shall  go  mad." 

"Silence,  there,  child,  it  is  not  your  fault,"  cried  Zagloba, 
"and  be  sure  of  this,  if  any  man  is  slain,  it  is  not  Michael." 

"But  I  am  so  sorry  for  Ketling.  We  have  given  him  a 
fine  repayment  for  his  hospitality,  I  must  say,  Oh  God!  oh 
God!" 

"That  is  true,"  added  Pan  Makovyetska. 

"Leave  that  alone,  for  God's  sake.     Ketling  is  certainly 


156  PAX   MICHAEL. 

nearer  Prussia  than  Warsaw,  by  now.  You  heard  thorn  say 
he  was  going  away.  1  also  put  my  hope's  in  (Joel,  that  if  he 
and  Pan  Michael  met,  they  will  remember  their  ancient 
friendship  and  the  service  they  have  gone  through  together. 
They  rode  stirrup  to  stirrup;  they  slept  on  the  same  saddle, 
they  scouted  in  company,  the  same  blood  stained  the  hands 
of  both.  Throughout  the  army  their  friendship  was  so  no- 
torious that  on  account  of  Ketling's  beauty  he  was  known 
-••s  Pan  Michael's  wife.  It  is  impossible  that  they  should  not 
remember  all  this,  when  they  meet." 

"Still  it  sometimes  happens/'  said  the  prudent  Makovy- 
etska,  "that  it  is  precisely  the  warmest  friendship  that  turns 
to  the  fiercest  hatred.  It  was  so  in  our  neighborhood,  when 
Pan  Deyma  killed  Pan  Ubysh,  with  whom  he  had  lived  for 
twenty  years  on  terms  of  the  greatest  harmony.  I  can  give 
you  the  details  of  that  unhappy  affair." 

"If  my  mind  were  less  disturbed,  I  would  listen  to  you  as 
gladly  as  I  do  to  her  ladyship,  your  lordship's  wife,  who  is 
also  in  the  habit  of  entering  into  details,  in  addition  to 
genealogies,  but  what  you  have  just  said  about  friendship  and 
hatred  has  impressed  my  mind;  God  forbid  that  it  should 
be  so  in  this  case!" 

"One  was  Pan  Deyma  and  the  other  Pan  Ubysh,  both 
worthy  men  and  mess-fellows. 

"Oh,  oh,  'oh,"  cried  Zagloba  sadly,  "we  will  trust  in  the 
mercy  of  God  that  it  will  not  be  so  in  this  case,  but  if  it 
should,  Ketling  will  be  the  one  to  die." 

"A  great  calamity,"  exclaimed  Makovyetska  after  a  pause 
"Yes,  yes,  Deyma  and  Ubysh,  I  remember  it  as  well  as  if  it 
happened  to-day,  and  there  was  a  woman  in  the  case  too." 

"Everlastingly  those  women!  The  first  daw  that  comes 
will  brew  such  beer  that  no  one  who  drinks  it  will  be  able  to 
digest  it,"  muttered  Zagloba. 

"Don't  say  anything  against  Krysia,  sir,"  cried  Basia 
sharply. 

"Oh,  if  Pan  Michael  had  only  fallen  in  love  with  you  none 
of  this  would  have  happened,"  said  Zagloba. 

In  this  kind  of  talk  they  reached  the  house.  The  sight 
of  lights  in  the  windows  made  their  hearts  beat  faster,  for 
they  thought  Pan  Michael  perhaps  had  returned. 

But  Pani  Makovyetska  was  the  only  one  to  receive  them, 
and  she  was  deeply  distressed  and  alarmed.  When  she  heard 
that  their  search  had  not  been  of  any  effect,  she  wept  bitterly 
and  began  to  lament  that  she  would  never  see  her  brother 


Pl.V  MICHAEL.  157 

again.  Basia  immediately  joined  her  in  her  grief.  Za- 
globa also  was  unable  to  repress  his  sorrow. 

"I  will  go  again  to-moro\v  before  dawn  by  myself/'  he 
said.  "I  may  succeed  in  getting  some  news." 

"We  can  make  a  better  search  together/7  suggested  Mak- 
ovyetska. 

"No,  let  your  lordship  stay  with  the  ladies.  If  Ketling 
is  alive,  I  will  bring  you  word." 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  we  are  living  in  that  man's  house/' 
cried  Makovyetska.  "To-morrow  we  must  find  an  inn  by 
some  means  of  other,  or  even  pitch  tents  in  the  open.  Any- 
thing rather  than  live  longer  here.'7 

"Wait  for  word  from  me,  or  we  shall  miss  each  other.  If 
Ketling  is  slain  .  .  ." 

"Don't  speak  so  loud,  for  Heaven's  sake/'  said  Pani  Mak- 
ovyetska,  "or  the  servants  will  hear,  and.  tell  Krysia,  and  she 
is  almost  dead  as  it  is." 

"I  will  go  to  her,"  said  Basia. 

And  she  darted  up  stairs.  Those  who  were  left  below 
were  anxious  and  alarmed.  Not  a  soul  in  the  whole  house 
slept.  The  thought  that  Ketling  might  already  be  a  corpse 
filled  them  with  horror.  Moreover,  the  night  became  dark 
and  stifling;  thunder  began  to  mutter  in  the  sky,  and  pre- 
sently the  darkness  began  to  be  pierced  by  the  lightning  every 
instant.  About  midnight,  the  first  spring  tempest  burst. 
It  woke  even  the  servants. 

Krysia  and  Basia  left  their  chambers  and  went  to  the 
dining-room.  There  they  all  sat  in  silent  prayer,  or  re- 
peated in  chorus  at  each  clap  of  thunder,  "And  the  Word 
was  made  Flesh,"  according  to  custom. 

Amid  the  roar  of  the  tempest  was  sometimes  heard  a  sound, 
like  the  tramp  of  a  horse,  and  on  such  occasions,  the  hair 
would  stand  upright  in  fright  on  the  heads  of  Basia  and 
Pani  Makovyetska  and  the  two  old  men,  for  at  any  moment 
they  expected  the  door  to  open  and  Pan  Michael  come  in, 
bathed  with  Ketling's  blood. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  the  usually  agreeable  Michael 
lay  as  heavy  as  a  stone  on  people's  hearts  and  filled  them  with 
terror  at  the  very  thought  of  him. 

Nevertheless,  the  night  passed  without  bringing  any  news 
of  the  little  knight.  At  dawn,  when  the  tempest  had  some- 
what lessened  Zagloba  again  took  his  departure  for  the  city. 

The  day  passed  and  brought  constantly  increasing:  fear. 
Ha-n'a  e«i  all  day  till  the  evening  in  the  window  facing  the 
gat?  watching  the  road  along  which  Zagloba  would  return, 


MICHAEL. 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  servants  at  the  orders  of  Pan  Mak- 
ovyetska,  were  slowly  packing  the  trunks  for  moving.  Krysia 
was  engaged  in  looking  after  this,  as  in  that  way  she  could 
keep  apart  from  the  Makovyetskas  and  Pan  Zagioba. 

For,  although  Pani  Makovyetska  did  not  say  a  single  word 
in  her  presence,  or  mention  his  name,  yet,  that  very  silence 
assured  Krysia  that  Pan  Michael's  love  for  her,  their  secret 
engagement,  and  her  late  retraction  had  been  found  out,  and 
therefore,  it  was  difficult  to-  admit  that  these,  who  were 
closest  to  Pan  Michael,  were  not  angry  and  hurt.  Poor 
Krysia  felt  that  it  must  be  so,  that  it  certainly  was  so,  that 
these  hearts,  hitherto  so  affectionate,  had  turned  away  from 
her,  and  so  she  wanted  to  suffer  alone. 

Towards  evening  the  trunks  were  all  packed,  so  that  it 
would  be  possible  to  move  that  day,  but  Pani  Makovyetska 
was  still  awaiting  news  from  Zagioba.  Supper  was  brought 
in,  but  no  one  wanted  any,  and  the  evening  crawled  on, 
heavily  and  unendurably,  and  as  silently  as  if  they  were  all 
engaged  in  listening  to  the  ticking  of  the  clock. 

"Let  us  go  into  the  salon/  at  last  said  Pani  Makovyetska, 
"it's  impossible  to  stay  here  any  longer/' 

They  went  in  and  sat  down,  but  before  anyone  had  time  to 
speak  a  word  the  dogs  were  heard  under  the  window. 

"Some  one  is  coming,"  cried  Basia. 

"The  dogs  are  barking  as  if  the  people  belong  to  the 
house,"  observed  Pani  Makovyetska. 

"Silence,"  cried  her  husband;  "there  is  a  rumble  of 
wheels." 

"Silence,"  repeated  Basia,  "yes,  it  is  coming  nearer  every 
moment.  It  is  Pan  Zagioba." 

Basia  and  Pani  Makovyetska  jumped  up  and  ran  out. 
Pani  Makovyetska's  heart  began  to  beat  loudly,  but  she 
stayed  with  Krysia,  so  that  her  haste  might  not  indicate  that 
Pan  Zagioba  was  bringing  exceedingly  important  news. 

In  the  meantime  wheels  were  heard  immediately  under 
the  window,  and  then  they  suddenly  stopped.  Voices  were 
heard  in  the  hall,  and  in  a  few  moments,  Basia  rushed  into 
the  room  like  a  whirlwind,  with  a  face  as  white  as  if  she  had 
eeen  a  ghost. 

"Basia,  what  is  it?  who  is  it?"  cried  Pani  Makovyetska 
in  amazement. 

But  before  Basia  could  get  her  breath  to  reply,  the  door 
opened  and  gave  entrance  first  to  Pan  Makovyetska,  and  then 
Pan  Michael,  and  lastly*  Ketling. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Ketling  was  so  altered  that  he  was  scarcely  able  to  m*k'' 
a  low  bow  to  the  ladies.  He  then  stood  motionless,  holding 
his  hat  to  his  breast  with  his  eyes  closed  like  a  miracle-work- 
ing image.  Pan  Michael  first  embraced  his  sister  and  then 
approached  Krysia. 

Her  face  was  as  white  as  a  sheet,  which  made  the  faint 
down  on  her  lip  look  darker  than  usual;  her  breast  rose  and 
fell  quickly.  But  Pan  Michael  gently  took  her  hand  and 
pressed  it  to  his  lips,  then  his  lips  worked  as  if  he  were  medi- 
tating, and  at  last  he  spoke  with  great  sadness,  but  tran- 
quility: 

"My  gracious  lady,  or  rather,  my  dearest  Krysia,  do  not  be 
afraid  to  listen  to  me,  because  I  am  not  a  Scythian,  or  a 
Tartar,  or  a  wild  man,  but  a  friend,  who,  though  himself  not 
very  happy,  is  yet  desirous  of  your  happiness.  I  have  dis- 
covered that  you  and  Ketling  are  in  love  with  each  other; 
Panna  Basia  in  righteous  anger,  cast  it  in  my  teeth.  I  do 
not  deny  that  I  flew  out  of  this  house  in  anger,  and  went  tc 
take  vengeance  on  Ketling.  .  .  He  who  loses  his  all,  is 
easily  carried  away  by  revenge,  and  I,  as  God  is  dear  to  me, 
loved  you  to  desperation,  and  not  merely  as  an  unmarried  man 
loves  a  maiden.  .  .  .  For,  if  I  had  been  married,  and  the 
Almighty  had  given  me  an  only  son  or  daughter,  and  had 
afterwards  taken  them  away,  I  think  I  should  not  then  have 
mourned  so  much  over  their  loss  as  I  have  mourned  over  you." 

At  this  point  Pan  Michael's  voice  failed  for  a  moment,  but 
he  quickly  recovered  himself,  and  after  his  lips  had  quivered 
for  a  moment,  he  proceeded: 

"Grief  is  grief,  but  it  can't  be  helped.  It  is  no  wonder 
that  Ketling  should  have  fallen  in  love  with  you.  Who  would 
not.  And  it  is  my  lot  that  you  should  have  fallen  in  love 
with  him.  That  is  no  wonder  either,  for  how  can  I  compare 
with  Ketling.  On  the  field  of  battle,  he  himself  will  acknowl- 
edge that  I  am  not  his  inferior,  that  is  quite  different.  The 
Almighty  has  beautified  one  and  deprived  the  other  of  come- 

(159) 


MICHAEL. 

liness,  but  has  made  it  up  to  him  with  reasonableness.  So 
that  when  along  the  road  the  winds  were  blowing  round  my 
ears,  and  the  first  heat  of  my  anger  had  passed,  conscience 
immediately  cried  out,  "Why  punish  them,  why  shed  the 
blood  of  a  friend?  It  was  by  God's  will  that  they  fell  in  love." 
Old  people  say  that  the  command  of  a  Hetman  avails  nothing 
where  the  heart  is  in  question.  It  was  the  will  of  God  by 
which  they  fell  in  love,  but  that  they  were  not  traitors  in 
the  result  of  their  own  honest  natures.  If  Ketling  had  been 
aware  of  your  promise  to  me,  I  should  most  likely  have  called 
out  to  him  for  satisfaction,  but  he  did  not  know  it.  What  was 
his  fault?  Nothing.  And  your  fault?  Nothing.  He  wanted 
to  go  away,  you  wanted  to  take  refuge  in  God.  My  fate  is 
to  be  blamed,  and  mine  alone,  for  the  hand  of  God  is  visible 
in  all  this,  as  I  am  left  alone.  But  I  have  vanquished  myself; 
I  have  overcome." 

Pan  Michael  again  stopped  and  began  to  breathe  rapidly 
as  a  man  does  when  he  emerges  into  the  air  after  a  long  dive; 
then  he  took  Krysia's  hand. 

"To  love  so  as  to  desire  everything  for  oneself,"  he  said, 
"does  not  require  much  exertion.  I  thought  to  myself,  the 
hearts  of  all  three  of  us  are  breaking.  It  would  be  better  if 
one  could  suffer  and  relieve  the  other  two.  Krysia,  God  grant 
you  happiness  with  Ketling.  Amen.  God  grant  you  happi- 
ness with  Ketling,  Krysia."  .  .  . 

"It  hurts  a  little,  but  that  does  not  matter — God  grant  you 
— God  grant — It's  nothing — I  have  conquered  myself." 

The  soldier  said,  "It's  nothing!"  but  he  clenched  his  teeth 
and  his  breath  came  hissing  through  them.  Basia's  sobs 
were  heard  at  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"Ketling,  my  brother,  come  here!"  cried  Pan  Michael. 

Ketling  approached,  knelt  down,  extended  his  arms  and 
silently,  with  the  utmost  respect  and  affection,  embraced  Kry- 
sia's knees. 

But  Pan  Michael  proceeded  in  broken  tones. 

"Lay  your  hand  on  his  head.  Poor  fellow,  he  has  suffered 
too.  .  .  God  bless  you  both.  You  will  not  go  to  the  con- 
vent. .  .  I  would  rather  you  should  bless  me,  than  have 
cause  to  curse  me.  The  Almighty  is  above  me,  though  now  it 
is  hard  for  me  ..." 

Basia  was  not  able  to  bear  any  longer,  and  darted  out  of 
the  room,  whereupon  Pan  Michael  turned  to  Makovyetska 
and  his  sister  and  said,  "Come  to  the  other  room,  and  leave 


PAN   MICHAEL.  !6i 

them  together;  I  also  will  go  somewhere,  and  fall  on  my 
knees  and  commend  myself  to  the  Lord  Jesus."  And  he 
departed. 

Half  way  down  the  passage,  he  met  Basia  by  the  stairs, 
on  the  very  spot  where,  in  her  anger,  she  had  betrayed  the 
secret  of  Krysia  and  Ketling's  love.  But  this  time  Basia 
was  leaning  against  the  wall  convulsively  sobbing. 

On  seeing  her,  Pan  Michael  was  affected  at  the  thought  of 
his  own  lot;  till  that  moment  he  had  restrained  himself  to 
the  best  of  his  ability,  but  now,  the  bonds  of  grief  broke,  and 
a  torrent  of  tears  sprang  from  his  eyes. 

"Why  are  you  weeping?"  he  cried. 

Basia  raised  her  head,  rubbing  her  eyes  with  her  knuckles 
in  turn  like  a  child,  and  choking  and  grasping  with  her  mouth 
open  and  replied  between  her  sobs: 

"I  am  so  sorry,  oh  for  God's  sake !  .  .  .  oh  Jesus!  .  .  . 
Pan  Michael  is  so  good  and  noble.  Oh  for  God's  sake!  .  .  .  " 

Pan  Michael  grasped  her  hands  and  began  to  kiss  them  in 
gratitude  and  emotion.  "God  reward  you,  God  reward  you 
for  your  tender  heart,"  he  said,  "be  quiet  and  cease  weeping." 

Nevertheless  Basia  kept  on  sobbing  almost  to  suffocation. 
Her  every  vein  was  throbbing  with  grief  and  she  gasped  for 
breath,  till  at  last,  stamping  her  foot  in  her  agitation  she  cried 
out  so  loudly  that  her  voice  echoed  through  the  hall: 

"Krysia  is  an  idiot,  I  would  rather  have  one  Pan  Michael 
than  ten  Ketlings."  I  love  Pan  Michael  with  all  my  heart, 
better  than  aunt,  or  uncle,  or  Krysia  either." 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  Basia,"  cried  the  little  knight,  and 
wanting  to  calm  her  sorrow  he  siezed  her  in  his  arms  and  she 
nestled  closely  against  his  breast  till  he  felt  her  heart  throb- 
bing like  a  tired  bird,  then  he  held  her  more  closely  to  him 
and  kept  her  there. 

There  was  silence. 

"Basia,  do  you  want  me?"  asked  the  little  knight. 

"I  do,  I  do,  I  do,"  answered  Basia. 

At  this  reply,  he  was  transported  in  his  turn;  he  pressed 
his  lips  to  her  rosy  lips  in  a  long  kiss. 

In  the  meantime,  a  carriage  rumbled  up  to  the  house  and 
Zagloba  came  running  into  the  hall,  and  thence  to  the  dining- 
room,  where  Pan  Makovyetska  was  sitting  with  his  wife.  "I 
can  find  no  trace  of  Michael,"  he  cried  in  a  breath,  "and  I 
havo  hunted  everywhere.  Pan  Krytski  told  me  that  he  saw 
him  and  Ketling  together;  -most  certainly  they  have  fought." 
11 


!62  PAX   MICHAEL. 

"Michael  is  here,"  answered  Pani  Makovyetska,  "he  brought 
Ketling  with  him,  and  resigned  Krysia  to  him." 

The  pillar  of  salt  into  which  Lot's  wife  was  changed  muet 
certainly  have  had  a  less  astonished  face  than  Zagloba's  at 
that  moment.  For  some  moments  there  was  silence,  and  then 
the  old  noble  rubbed  his  eyes  and  inquired,  "Eh?"' 

"Krysia  and  Ketling  are  sitting  together  in  the  next  room 
and  Michael  has  gone  away  to  pray/'  said  Makovyetska. 

Without  a  moment's  delay,  Zagloba  entered  the  next  room, 
and  though  he  was  acquainted  with  everything,  he  was  again 
amazed  to  see  Ketling  and  Krysia  sitting  with  their  heads 
together.  They  sprang  to  their  feet  in  great  confusion,  and 
remained  speechless,  more  especially  as  the  Makovyetskas  fol- 
lowed Zagloba. 

"A  whole  lifetime  would  not  be  enough  for  giving  Michael 
thanks,"  at  last  said  Ketling.  "To  him,  we  owe  our  happi- 
ness." 

"God  grant  you  happiness,"  said  Makovyetska.  "We  will 
not  oppose  Michael." 

Krysia  cast  herself  into  the  arms  of  Pani  Makovyetska  and 
they  mingled  their  tears.  Zagloba  was  like  one  stunned. 
Ketling  prostrated  himself  before  Makovyetska  like  a  son 
before  a  father,  and  either  from  the  confusion  of  his  ideas  or 
because  his  thoughts  were  running  on  another  subject,  Makov- 
yetska said: 

"But  Pan  Deyma  killed  Pan  Ubysh.  Give  thanks  to 
Michael  and  not  to  me!" 

After  a  little  while  he  asked: 

"Wife,  what  was  the  lady's  name?" 

But  she  had  no  time  to  answer,  for  at  that  moment  Basia 
came  running  in,  out  of  breath  even  more  than  usual  and 
rosier  than  usual,  and  with  her  hair  in  more  than  usual  dis- 
order; she  darted  toward  Ketling  and  Krysia,  and  pointing 
her  finger  at  both  in  turn  she  ci-ied:  "Aha,  sigh,  love,  marry! 
You  think  that  Pan  Michael  will  be  alone  in  the  world?  Far 
from  it;  I  shall  battle  for  him,  for  I  love  him  and  have  told 
him  so.  I  told  him  first  and  he  asked  if  I  wanted  to  have  him, 
and  I  told  him  that  I  would  rather  have  him  than  any  other 
ten,  for  I  love  him  and  I'll  make  him  the  foest  wife  in  the 
world  and  will  never  leave  his  side.  I  have  loved  him  for  a 
long  while,  though  I  never  told  him,  for  he  is  the  best, 
noblest,  and  dearest  .  .  .  And  now  you  can  go  and  marry 
yourselves,  and  I  will  take  Pan  Michael  .  ,  .  to-morrow? 
if  necessary,  .  .  .  for  .  .  ,  ): 


PAN   MICHAEL.  T63 

Here  Basia's  breath  failed  her. 

Everybody  stared  at  her,  wondering  whether  she  had  gone 
mad,  or  was  telling  the  truth,  then  they  looked  at  each  other 
and  just  at  that  moment  Pan  Michael  appeared  behind  Basia 
in  the  doorway. 

"Michael/'  asked  the  Stolnik  when  he  had  recovered  his 
wits,  "is  this  true  that  we  hear?" 

"God  has  wrought  a  miracle,"  replied  the  liftle  knight 
gravely,  "and  this  is  my  solace,  my  love,  and  my  most  precious 
treasure." 

At  these  words  Basia  sprang  to  his  side  like  a  deer. 

At  the  same  time  Zagloba's  face  lost  its  look  of  amazement 
and  his  lips  began  to  quiver;  he  opened  his  arms  wide  and 
exclaimed,  "By  God!  I  must  weep  .  .  .  Little  haiduk, 
Michael,  come  here!" 


BOOK  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

They  loved  each  other  dearly.  They  were  very  happy  with 
each  other,  but  they  had  no  children,  though  they  had  now 
lived  together  four  years.  They  managed  their  estates  witli 
great  care.  With  his  own  and  Basia's  money  Volodiyovski 
bought  several  villages  near  Kamenets,  not  paying  much  for 
them  because  people  were  fearful  of  invasion  by  the  Turks 
and  therefore  glad  to  sell  land  in  that  district.  He  intro- 
duced order  and  military  discipline  into  his  possessions;  he  set 
about  quieting  the  restless  inhabitants,  rebuilt  the  houses 
that  had  been  burned,  set  up  'fortalices'  or  little  forts,  for- 
tified manor-houses  which  he  temporarily  garrisoned  and, 
just  as  of  old  he  had  successfully  defended  the  country,  so 
now  he  managed  his  land  with  profit,  though  never  laying 
down  the  sword. 

His  property's  best  protection  was  the  fame  of  his  own 
name.  He  poured  water  on  his  blade  and  concluded  brother- 
hood with  some  of  the  Murzas  and  he  crushed  others.  Raid- 
ing bodies  of  Cossacks,  scattered  bands  of  the  horde,  marau- 
ders of  the  steppes,  bandits  from  the  plains  of  Bessarabia, 
all  trembled  at  the  name  of  the  "Little  Falcon"  and  so  his 
herds  of  horses  and  flocks  of  sheep  and  his  buffaloes  and 
camels  were  safe  on  the  steppes.  Even  his  neighbors  were 
respected.  His  possessions  multiplied  by  the  help  of  his 
able  wife.  The  respect  and  affection  of  others  surrounded 
him.  His  own  country  had  honored  him  with  office  and  he 
was  loved  by  the  Hetman;  the  Pasha  of  Khotsim  smacked 
his  lips  in  wonder  at  him;  far  away  in  the  Crimea,  in 
Bakhche  Serai  his  name  was  uttered  with  respect. 

The  three  important  things  in  his  life  were  husbandry, 
war,  and  love. 

The  sultry  summer  of  1671  found  Pan  Volodiyovski  in 
Sokola,  a  village  of  Basia's  patrimony.  That  village,  Sokola, 
formed  the  pearl  of  their  possessions.  Here  they  hospitably 
and  sumptuously  entertained  Pan  Zagloba  who  disregarded 
the  hardships  of  a  journey  unfit  for  one  of  his  years  and 
(167) 


X   MICHAEL. 

came  to  visit  them  in  fulfilment  of  a  solemn  promise  made 
at  the  wedding  of  Volo-diyovski.  But  the  revels  and  delight 
of  his  hosts  at  having  this  beloved  guest  was  soon  disturbed 
by  an  order  from  the  Hetman  calling  Pan  Michael  to  the 
command  of  Khreptyov,  so  that  he  might  keep  his  eyes  on 
the  Moldavian  boundary,  listen  for  voices  from  the  desert, 
defend  the  spot,  rout  the  chambuls,  and  clear  the  neighbor- 
hood from  outlaws. 

Like  a  soldier  ever  loyal  to  the  Commonwealth's  service, 
the  little  knight  immediately  ordered  his  servants  to  driva 
the  herds  out  of  the  pasture,  to  break  in  the  camels,  and  to 
arm  themselves. 

But  his  heart  was  torn  by  the  thought  of  leaving  his  wife, 
for  he  loved  her  like  husband  and  father  in  one  and  could 
hardly  breathe  without  her;  yet  he  had  no  desire  to  have  her 
go  with  him  to  the  savage  and  solitary  deserts  of  Ushytsa, 
exposed  to  many  perils. 

But  she  insisted  on  accompanying  him — 

"Think/"  she  said,  "it  will  be  less  dangerous  if  I  am  with 
you  and  protected  by  the  troops,  than  if  I  stay  here?  Your 
tent  is  all  the  roof  I  want,  for  I  took  you  to  share  your 
fatigue,  toil,  and  danger.  If  I  remain  here,  I  shall  die  with 
anxiety;  but  there  with  such  a  soldier  as  you,  I  shall  feel  safer 
than  the  queen  at  Warsaw.  Even  if  I  have  to  go  into  the 
field  with  you,  I  will  go  gladly.  Without  you  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  sleep;  I  shall  not  be  able  to  eat  a  mouthful;  indeed,  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  stand  it,  but  I  will  fly  to  Khreptyov;  and, 
if  you  wont  admit  me,  I  will  stay  at  the  gate  all  night,  and 
weep  and  plead  until  you  take  compassion  on  me." 

At  this  display  of  affection  Yolodiyovski  fondly  folded 
his  wife  in  his  arms  and  showered  kisses  upon  her  rosy  cheeks, 
and  she  returned  kiss  for  kiss. 

"I  should  not  hesitate/  he  finally  said,  "if  it  were  merely 
a  matter  of  being  stationed  on  guard  and  atacking  relays 
of  the  horde.  There  would  be  sufficient  men  because  I  shall 
have  one  of  the  squadrons  from  the  General  of  Podolia,  and 
oife  from  the  Under  Chamberlain;  and  in  addition  to  them, 
Montovidlo  will  be  there  with  his  Semenov  Cossacks  and 
Linkhaus'  Dragoons.  Altogether  there  will  be  six  hundred 
soldiers,  making  a  thousand  with  the  camp  followers.  But  I 
dread  something, — which  the  boasters  of  the  Diet  in  War- 
saw won't  credit,  but  which  we  on  the  borders  look  for  at 
any  hour, — and  that  is  a  terrible  war  with  the  whole  Turkish 


PAN   MICHAEL.  ^9 

force.  Pan  Myslishevski  has  affirmed  it,  and  the  Pasha  of 
Khotsim  talks  of  it  every  day;  the  Hetman  is  of  the  opinion 
that  the  Sultan  will  aid  Doroshenko  and  will  declare  war 
upon  the  Commonwealth;  and,  in  that  case,  what  could  I  do 
with  you,  my  most  beloved  little  flower,  my  gift  from  God?" 

"Your  lot  shall  be  mine.  I  want  no  other  fate  than 
yours." 

Pan  Zagloba  now  broke  the  silence  saying  to  Basia: 

"No  matter  whether  you  wish  it  or  not,  your  fate  will  be 
quite  different  from  Michael's,  if  the  Turks  capture  you.  Ha! 
After  the  Cossacks,  the  Swedes,  the  Northerners,  and  the 
Brandenburg  dog-kennel,  comes  the  Turk!  I  said  to  the 
priest  Olshovski,  'Never  drive  Doroshenko  to  despair,  for  he 
only  favors  the  Turk  from  necessity/  What  then?  Nobody 
listened  to  me.  They  sent  Hanenko  against  Dorosh,  and 
now  Dorosh,1  whether  he  wants  to  or  not,  must  walk  down 
the  Turk's  throat,  and,  moreover,  lead  him  against  us. 
Michael,  you  remember  that  I  warned  the  priest  Olshovski 
in  your  presence." 

"You  must  have  warned  him  on  some  occasion  when  I  was 
not  present  for  I  remember  nothing  of  it,"  replied  the  little 
knight.  "Yet  what  you  say  about  Doroshenko  is  holy  truth, 
for  the  Hetmaii  is  of  the  same  opinion;  it  is  even  said  that 
he  has  letters  from  Doroshenko  to  that  effect.  But  things 
are  as  they  are;  it  is  too  late  to  negotiate  now.  You  have 
a  keen  understanding,  however,  and  I  should  like  to  know 
what  you  think.  Shall  I  take  Bashka  to  Khreptyov,  or  had 
I  better  let  her  stay  here  ?  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  the  place 
is  a  fearful  desert.  It  always  was  a  miserable  hamlet,  but 
so  many  Cossacks  and  chambuls  have  passed  through  it 
during  the  last  twenty  years  that  I  am  not  sure  if  I  shall  find 
as  much  as  two  beams  fastened  together.  There  are  num- 
erous ravines  there  overgrown  with  woods,  hiding-places,  deep 
caverns,  and  all  kinds  of  dens,  where  the  murderers  hide  by 
the  hundred,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Wallachians." 

"Murderes  in  the  presence  of  so  many  troops  are  a  trifle," 
said  Zagloba.  "Chambuls,  too,  are  a  trifle;  for  if  strong  ones 
attack  you,  you  will  have  warning;  and  if  they  are  weak  you 
will  wipe  them  out  of  existence." 

"What  then!"  cried  Basia,  "isn't  everything  a  trifle? 
Outlaws  are  a  trifle;  chambuls  are  a  trifle.  With  so  many 
troops  Michael  can  protect  me  against  the  entire  Crimea.'7 

1  Dorogb,  game  a«  Doroshenko. 


MICHAEL. 

"Don't  disturb  me  while  1  am  deliberating,"  said  Zagloba, 
"if  you  do,  I'll  pronounce  against  you/7 

Basia  quickly  covered  her  mouth  with  both  hands  and 
leaned  her  little  head  towards  her  shoulder,  pretending  to 
be  dreadfully  afraid  of  Zagloba,  who,  although  aware  that 
the  little  woman  was  only  playing,  took  pleasure  in  her  be- 
havior; he  placed  his  old  hand  upon  her  shining  head,  and 
said: 

"Well!   Fear  not!    I  will  make  you  happy  about  this." 

Basia  forthwith  kissed  his  hand,  for  indeed  much  de- 
pended upon  his  infallible  judgment,  which  never  led  people 
astray;  he  thrust  his  hands  under  his  belt,  and  rapidly 
glancing  with  his  sound  eye  from  one  to  the  other,  said 
abruptly: 

"You  have  no  children;  none;  So!" 

And  then  he  protruded  his  lower  lip. 

"God's  will,  that's  all,"  said  Volodiyovski,  lowering  his 
eyes. 

"God's  will,  that's  all,"  said  Basia,  lowering  her  eyes. 

"And  do  you  wish  to  have?"  asked  Zagloba. 

The  little  knight  replied: 

"I  will  tell  you  honestly  I  don't  know  what  I  wouldn't 
give  for  children;  but  sometimes  I  think  it  a  vain  desire.  The 
Lord  Jesus  has  granted  me  happiness  in  giving  me  this 
kitten, — or  this  little  haiduk,  as  you  call  her, — and  has, 
moreover,  blessed  me  with  fame  and  wealth.  I  don't  dare 
to  worry  him  for  more  blessings.  You  see  I  have  come  to 
the  conclusion,  more  than  once,  that  if  everybody  got  all  he 
desired  there  would  be  no  difference  between  this  earthly 
Commonwealth  and  the  heavenly  one,  where  perfect  happi- 
ness is  alone  to  be  found.  Therefore,  I  think  if  I  do  not 
have  one  or  two  sons  here,  they  will  not  fail  to  come  to  me 
above,  and  they  will  do  service  and  become  famous  under 
that  heavenly  Hetman,  the  holy  Archangel  Michael,  battling 
i  with  the  vileness  of  Hell  and  attaining  high  rank." 

Moved  by  his  own  thoughts  and  words,  the  devout  Chris- 
tian knight  lifted  his  eyes  to  Heaven;  but  Zagloba  heard 
him  with  indifference  and  kept  blinking  'his  eye  severely. 
Finally  he  said: 

"Take  care  that  you  don't  blaspheme.  The  boast  you 
make,  that  you  know  the  intention  of  God  so  well,  may  prove 
to  be  a  sin  for  which  you  will  hop  about  like  peas  on  a  hot 
griddle.  The  Lord  God  has  wider  sleeves  than  the  Bishop 


PAN   MICHAEL.  l^l 

of  Cracow,  and  He  is  not  fond  of  having  small  people  peep 
to  see  what  he  has  planned  for  themr  and  He  does  what  he 
pleases;  but  you  attend  to  your  own  affairs,  and  if  you  wish 
for  heirs  you  must  keep  together  and  not  separate." 

On  hearing  this,  Basia  jumped  for  joy  into  the  middle 
of  the  room,  clapped  her  hands,  and  said: 

"Well  then,  we'll  keep  together.  I  felt  sure  that  your 
lordship  would  take  my  part;  I  felt  sure  of  it!  We'll  both 
go  to  Khreptyov,  Michael,  dear,  and  you'll  take  me  once— 
just  once — my  dear,  my  golden  one,  against  the  Tartars!" 

"There  you  are!  Now  she's  longing  to  go  into  the  field!" 
exclaimed  the  little  knight. 

"With  you  I  should  not  be  afraid  of  the  whole  horde." 

"Silentium!"  said  Zagloba,  gazing  with  benignant  eyes, 
or  rather  his  benignant  eye  upon  Basia,  to  whom  he  was 
perfectly  devoted.  "By  the  way,  Khreptyov  is  not  far  from 
here.  I  hope  it  is  not  the  last  post  before  you  reach  the 
wild  fields." 

"No,  there  will  be  other  posts  in  Mohillov  and  Yampol, 
and,  finally,  in  Rashkov,"  answered  the  little  knight. 

"In  Rashkov?  I  know  Rashkov.  We  brought  Pan  Yan's 
wife,  Halshka1  from  there — you  remember  that  ravine  in 
Valadynka,  Michael.  You  recollect  how  I  cut  down  that 
devil  or  monster,  named  Cheremis,  who  guarded  her?  But 
as  long  as  the  last  garrison  is  to  be  in  Rashkov  they  will 
get  the  news  quickly  if  the  Crimea  should  pise,  or  all  the 
Turkish  strength,  and  will  give  us  warning  in  Khreptyov; 
there  will  be  no  great  danger,  for  you  see  we  cannot  be  sud- 
denly taken  at  Khreptyov.  I  say  this  advisedly;  for  you  know 
well  enough  that  I  would  rather  lay  down  my  old  head  than 
expose  her  to  any  danger.  Take  her.  It  will  be  better  for 
the  health  of  both  of  you.  But  Basia  must  promise  that 
in  case  a  great  war  breaks  out  she  will  let  herself  be  taken 
to  Warsaw,  for  there  would  be  some  terrible  marches  and  hot 
fighting,  sieges,  and,  perhaps,  some  starving,  as  we  had  at 
Zbaraj;  at  such  times  it  is  hard  for  a  man  to  save  his  head, 
but  what  would  happen  to  a  woman?" 

"I  should  not  mind  falling  at  Michael's  side,"  said  Basia; 
"but  still  I  am  reasonable,  and  know  that  when  a  thing  is 
impossible,  it  is  impossible.  After  all,  it  is  Michael's  will; 
not  mine.  This  year  he  went  on  Pan  Sobieskfs  expedition. 

1  Diminutive  of  Helena. 


X   MICHAEL. 

Did  I  insist  on  going,  too?  No.  Well  then,  if  you  let  me  go 
to  Khreptyov  with  Michael,  you  can  send  me  anywhere  you 
please  if  war  breaks  out.' 

"His  grace,  Pan  Zagloba,  will  escort  you  to  Podlasia  to  the 
Skshetuskis,"  said  the  little  knight,  "the  Turks  will  never  get 
there." 

"Pan  Zagioba!  Pan  Zagloba!''  mocked  the  old  nobleman. 
"Am  I  a  soldier?  Don't  trust  your  wives  to  Pan  Zagloba, 
imagining  that  he  is  senile,  he  may  be  somethhing  quite  dif- 
ferent. I  repeat,  do  you  think  if  war  with  the  Turk  breaks 
out,  I  will  go  into  the  kitchen  at  Podlasia  and  keep  the  roast 
meat  from  burning?  I'm  not  yet  a  menial.  Perhaps  I  shall 
be  good  for  something  better  than  that.  I  admit  that  I 
mount  from  the  horse  block,  but  when  once  in  the  saddle 
I  will  charge  the  enemy  as  fast  as  any  youth.  Glory  to  God! 
neither  sand  nor  saw-dust  is  falling  from  me  yet.  I  won't 
spy  in  the  wilderness,  as  I'm  not  a  scout,  and  I  won't  take 
part  in  a  raid  against  the  Tartars;  but  if  you  stay  near  me  in 
a  general  action,  you  will  see  some  great  doings." 

"Do  you  want  to  go  into  the  field  again?" 

"Don't  you  think  that  after  so  many  years  of  service  I  want 
to  seal  my  fame  with  a  glorious  death,  and  what  better  could 
happen?  Were  you  acquainted  with  Pan  Dzyevyonkyevich ? 
It  is  true  he  did  not.  look  more  than  a  hundred  and  forty 
but  he  was  really  a  hundred  and  forty-two,  and  still  serving." 

"He  wasn't  as  old  as  that." 

"Indeed  he  was!  May  I  never  move  from  this  seat  if  he 
wasn't!  I  am  going  to  take  part  in  this  great  war,  and  then 
quit.  I  am  in  love  with  Basia,  and  I'm  going  with  you  to 
Khreptyov." 

The  radiant  Basia  jumped  up  and  hugged  Zagloba,  who 
raised  his  head,  saying: 

"Closer,  closer!" 

For  quite  a  little  while  Pan  Michael  thought  over  matters, 
and  finally  he  said: 

"As  the  place  is  a  perfect  desert,  it  is  impossible  for  us  all 
to  go  at  once,  for  we  should  not  be  able  to  find  even  a 
piece  of  a  roof.  I  will  go  first,  select  a  spot,  and  construct 
a  square  with  quarters  for  the  soldiers  and  sheds  for  the 
officers'  fine  horses  so  that  they  will  not  be  exposed  and 
suffer  from  the  change  of  climate;  I  will  have  some  wells 
dug,  the  roads  opened,  and  the  ravines  cleared  of  murder- 
jug  outlaws.  When  all  this  is  accomplished,  I  will  send 


PAN    MICHAEL.  I73 

you  a  good  escort,  and  you  may  come  to  me.  You  may  have 
to  stay  here  for  about  three  weeks." 

Basia  was  going  to  protest,  but  Zagloba,  who  recognized 
Michael's  wisdom,  said: 

"Wisdom  is  wisdom!  We'll  stay  here  Basia,  and  keep 
house  together,  and  we  shall  not  be  so  badly  off.  We  shall 
have  to  make  some  preparations,  too,  and  lay  in  supplies, 
for  you  don't  know  it,  but  nowhere  do  mead  and  wine  keep 
so  well  as  in  caves." 


CHAPTER  IL 

Pan  Michael  kept  his  word;  the  buildings  were  finished  in 
three  weeks  and  he  sent  a  goodly  escort, — a  hundred  Lipkov 
Tartars  from  Pan  Lantskoronski's  squadron,  and  a  hundred 
of  Linkhauz's  dragoons,  led  by  Pan  Snitko  of  the  Hidden 
Moon  coat  of  arms.  Setnik  Azya  Mellekhovich,  a  young  man 
a  little  over  twenty  and  a  Lithuanian  Tartar  himself,  led  the 
Lipkovs.  He  carried  the  following  letter  from  the  little 
knight  to  his  wife: 

"Bashka;  my  heart's  beloved.  You  may  come  to  me  now, 
for  without  you  I  am  as  though  without  bread;  and,  if  I  do 
not  waste  away  before  you  arrive,  I  will  kiss  your  rosy  little 
mouth  away.  I  have  not  stinted  you  with  regard  to  your 
escort  of  men  and  experienced  officers;  but  give  precedence  in 
everything  to  Pan  Snitko,  and  count  him  as  one  of  us,  for  he 
is  well-born,  has  estates,  and  is  an  officer.  Mellekhovich  is  a 
good  soldier,  but  God  only  knows  what  is  his  origin.  He 
could  not  have  become  an  officer  in  any  but  the  Lipkov 
militia,  for  all  the  others  would  have  taunted  him  with  his 
obscure  origin.  I  embrace  you  with  all  my  strength.  I  kiss 
your  little  hands  and  nose.  I  have  built  a  fortalice  with  a 
hundred  loop-holes.  It  has  enormous  chimneys.  You  and  I 
will  have  some  rooms  in  a  separate  building.  The  odor  of 
resin  is  over  everything,  and  we  have  so  many  crickets  that 
in  the  evening  when  they  begin  to  chirp  they  wake  up  the 
dogs.  If  we  had  some  pea-straw  we  could  easily  get  rid  of 
them.  Perhaps  you  will  remember  to  have  a  little  packed  in 
the  wagons.  We  could  get  no  glass  here  and  so  we  had  to 
stuff  the  windows  up  with  moss,  but  Pan  Byaloglovski  has  a 
glazier  among  his  dragoons.  You  can  buy  glass  from  the 
Armenians  at  Kamenets;  but,  for  Heaven's  sake!  see  that  it 
is  handled  with  care  so  that  it  is  not  broken.  I  have  fur- 
nished your  room  with  nigs,  and  it  looks  fairly  well.  I  have 
had  nineteen  of  the  outlaws,  that  we  captured  in  the  ravines, 


PAN   MICHAEL.  I75 

hanged,  and  the  number  will  have  reached  thirty  before  you 
arrive.  Pan  Snitko  will  tell  you  how  we  live  here.  I  give 
you  into  the  care  of  God  and  the  Most  Holy  Virgin,  my  own 
beloved  soul." 

After  reading  this  letter  Basia  handed  it  to  Zagloba,  who 
began  to  pay  more  attention  to  Pan  Snitko,  as  soon  as  he 
had  read  it — not  so  marked,  however,  as  to  allow  the  latter 
to  forget  he  was  talking  to  a  renowned  soldier  and  an  import- 
ant individual  who  was  familiar  with  him  only  by  favor.  Pan 
Snitko  had  spent  his  entire  life  in  the  army,  and  was  extremely 
good-natured,  jovial,  and,  moreover,  a  very  efficient  soldier. 
He  had  a  high  respect  for  Pan  Michael,  and  before  Zagloba's 
fame  he  felt  quite  insignificant,  and  had  no  idea  of  asserting 
himself. 

Mellekhovich  did  not  wait  for  the  letter  to  be  read,  but 
after  delivering  it  he  immediately  left  the  room,  as  if  to 
superintend  his  soldiers,  but  his  real  motive  was  to  escape 
being  ordered  to  the  servants'  quarters. 

However,  Zagloba  had  had  time  to  scrutinize  him,  and  with 
Pan  Michael's  words  still  fresh  in  his  mind,  he  remarked  to 
Snitko: 

"We  are  delighted  to  welcome  you." 

"I  pray  .  .  .  Pan  Snitko  .  .  .  the  shield  Hidden  Moon 
is  a  gem,  I  know  it  very  well.  .  .  But  what  is  the  name  of 
this  Tartar?" 

"Mellekhovich." 

"Well,  but  this  Mellekhovich  reminds  me  somewhat  of  a 
wolf.  Michael  writes  he  is  of  mysterious  origin,  which  seems 
strange,  for,  although  they  are  Mohammedans,  all  of  our 
Tartars  are  noblemen.  I  have  seen  entire  villages  of  them 
in  Lithuania.  They  are  called  there  Lipkovs,  but  those  here 
are  called  Cheremis.  They  have  served  the  Commonwealth 
faithfully  for  a  long  time  in  return  for  their  living;  but  dur- 
ing the  peasant  incursion  a  good  many  of  them  joined . 
Khmyelnitski,  and  I  understand  that  they  are  beginning  to 
hold  relations  with  the  horde.  .  .  .  That  Mellekhovich 
certainly  looks  like  a  wolf.  .  .  .  How  long  has  Pan  Voldi- 
yovski  known  him?" 

"Since  the  last  campaign,"  replied  Pan  Snitko,  stretching 
his  legs  under  the  table,  "when  we  were  out  against  Doro- 
shenko  and  the  horde  with  Pan  Sobieski;  they  went  together 
through  the  Ukraine." 

"Since  the  last  campaign!     I  was  not  able  to  share  that, 


1 76  PAN  MICHAEL. 

for  Sobieski  gave  me  other  duties,  but  after  a  time  he  missed 
me.  ...  Your  gem  is  the  Hidden  Moon.  .  .  .  Where 
does  this  Mellekhovich  come  from?" 

"He  calls  himself  a  Lithuanian  Tartar;  but  I  don't  under- 
stand why  it  is  that  none  of  the  Lithuanian  Tartars  in  his 
own  squadron  know  anything  of  his  antecedents.  This  ex- 
plains the  stories  of  his  mysterious  origin,  which  even  his 
high  and  mighty  manner  has  not  succeeded  in  stopping.  Al- 
though he  is  badly  spoen  of,  he  is  a  good  soldier.  He  did 
such  good  service  at  Bkatslav  and  Kalnik  that  notwithstand- 
ing he  was  the  youngest  man  in  the  squadron,  the  Hetman 
made  him  captain.  He  is  much  beloved  by  the  Lipkovs,  but 
he  gets  no  affection  from  us,  and  what  is  the  reason?  Because 
he^is  so  dogged  and,  just  as  you  say,  reminds  one  of  a  wolf." 
"I  think  if  he  is  a  famous  soldier  and  has  shed  blood,"  said 
Basia,  "we  ought  to  receive  him  among  us,  which  my  hus- 
band did  not  forbid  in  his  letter." 
Turning  to  Pan  Snitko,  Basia  said: 
;T)oes  your  lordship  allow  it?" 

"I  am  the  servant  of  my  beneficent  lady-colonel,"  replied 
Snitko. 

Basia  left  the  room  and  Zagloba  drew  a  long  breath  and 
asked  Pan  Snitko: 

"Well,  how  do  you  like  the  colonel's  wife?" 
Instead  of  replying,  the  veteran  soldier  gave  a  military 
salute,  and,  leaning  over,  repeated: 
"Ai!  ai!  ai!" 

Then  he  stared  and  laid  his  large  hand  upon  his  mouth, 
and  said  nothing,  as  if  ashamed  of  his  enthusiasm. 
"Isn't  she  March-pane?"  said  Zagloba. 
At  this  moment  the  "March-pane"  returned,  bringing  Mel- 
lekhovich, who  seemed  as  frightened  as  a  captured  wild  bird; 
and  said  to  him  as  they  entered: 

"We  have  heard  of  your  brave  exploits  from  my  husband's 
letter  and  from  Pan  Snitko,  and  we  are  pleased  to  make  your 
acquaintance.  We  invite  you  to  join  us,  for  dinner  will  soon 
be  served." 

"Come  nearer,  I  beg  of  you,"  said  Zagloba. 
^  The  young  Tartar's  dogged,  yet  handsome,  face  did  not 
light  up  with  pleasure,  but  he  was  evidently  grateful  for  his 
welcome  and  his  escape  from  the  servants'  quarters. 

With  a  woman's  instinct  Basia  had  readily  divined  that 
he  was  proud  and  sensitive,  and  that  he  often  suffered  acutely 


PA.N   MICHAEL. 


177 


from  his  treatment  on  account  of  his  mysterious  origin,  and 
she  had  determined  to  show  him  kindness.  Not  making  any 
distinction  between  him  and  Pan  Snijtko,  except  that  which 
the  latter's  age  demanded,  she  began  to  question  the  young 
captain  about  the  services  for  which  he  had  been  promoted  at 
Kalnik.  Pan  Zagloba  guessed  Basia's  wishes,,  and  talked  to 
him  sufficiently;  but  Mellekhovich  was  very  reserved  in  his 
manner  at  first,  although  he  replied  to  everything  properly 
and  surprised  them  with  his  elegance  of  manner. 

"His  bearing  shows  that  he  cannot  come  of  peasant  blood," 
said  Zagloba  to  himself.  Therefore  he  asked  aloud: 

"Where  does  your  father  live?" 

"In  Lithuania,"  answered  Mellekhovich,  turning  red. 

"Lithuania  is  a  large  place;  you  might  as  well  have  said 
in  the  Commonwealth." 

"It  does  not  belong  to  the  Commonwealth  any  longer;  it 
has  seceded.  My  father  has  an  estate  near  Smolensk." 

"I  also  used  to  have  considerable  lands  there,  which  I  in- 
herited from  childless  relatives;  but  I  abandoned  them  for  the 
sake  of  the  Commonwealth." 

"I  have  done  the  same  thing,"  answered  Mellekhovich. 

"That's  very  honorable,"  Basia  interrupted. 

But  Snitko,  who  was  listening  attentively,  shrugged  his 
shoulders  as  if  to  say:  "God  only  knows  who  you  are  and 
where  you  came  from." 

Pan  Zagloba  noticed  this,  and,  turning  to  Mellekhovich, 
asked: 

"Do  you  confess  Christ,  or  do  you  live — I  mean  no  offence 
— in  wickedness?" 

"I  profess  Christianity,  and  in  consequence  of  this  I  was 
obliged  to  leave  my  father." 

"If  that  is  the  true  reason,  the  Lord  God  will  not  forsake 
you;  the  first  thing  he  grants  you  is  the  privilege  of  drinking 
wine,  which  you  could  not  have  if  you  had  remained  in  sin." 

Snitko  smiled  at  this;  but  Mellekhovich  instantly  became 
again  reserved,  for  he  shrank  from  all  personal  questions. 
Pan  Zagloba  took  little  notice  of  him,  principally  because  he 
was  not  attracted  by  the  young  Tartar,  who  somehow  re- 
minded him  in  his  movements  and  glance,  although  not  in  his 
features,  of  Bohun,  the  famous  Cossack  chief. 

Presently  dinner  was  served. 

Preparations  for  the  road  took  up  all  the  rest  of  the  day. 
They  started  at  dawn,  or  rather,  while  it  was  still  dark,  so  as 
to  make  the  journey  to  Khreptyov  in  one  day. 
• 


I78  PAN   MICHAEL. 

Basia  intended  to  take  plenty  of  supplies  to  Khreptyov, 
and  so  they  had  about  a  dozen  wagons;  camels  and  horses 
staggering  under  their -heavy  loads  of  dried  meat  and  meal 
followed  them;  and  several  dozen  oxen  of  the  steppe,  and 
chambuls  (flocks)  of  sheep  brought  up  the  rear  of  the  caravan. 
Mellekhovich  and  his  Lipkovs  rode  at  the  head;  and  Basia 
and  Zagloba  sat  in  a  covered  wagon  guarded  by  dragoons,  who 
rode  beside  it.  Basia  wanted  to  ride  her  own  horse;  but 
the  old  nobleman  dissuaded  her  from  it  during  the  first  and 
last  part  of  the  journey. 

"If  you  would  sit  your  horse  quietly,"  he  said,  "I  should 
make  no  objections,  but  you  would  immediately  want  to  show 
off  your  horsemanship  and  make  your  horse  prance,  which 
would  not  be  becoming  in  the  wife  of  a  commander." 

Basia  was  as  gay  and  happy  as  a  bird.  Ever  since  her 
marriage  she  had  been  possessed  of  two  ambitions:  the  first 
to  give  a  son  to  the  little  knight;  the  second,  to  pass,  if  only 
a  year,  with  her  husband  at  a  stanitsa  near  the  Wild  Fields,  to 
live  a  soldier's  life  on  the  borders  of  the  wilderness,  taking 
part  in  battles  and  adventures,  seeing  the  steppes,  and  ex- 
periencing the  perils  of  which  she  had  heard  from  infancy. 
This  had  been  one  of  her  girlish  dreams;  and  now  it  was  to 
be  realized,  with  the  additional  delight  of  being  with  the  man 
she  loved,  the  most  celebrated  warrior  in  the  Commonwealth, 
from  whom,  it  was  said,  no  enemy  could  escape. 

The  young  commandress  felt  as  though  she  had  wings  on 
her  shoulders  and  was  so  full  of  joy  that  she  often  wanted 
to  shout  and  jump;  but  the  thought  of  dignity  refrained  her 
from  doing  so,  for  she  promised  to  be  sedate  so  as  to  gain  the 
intense  affection  of  the  soldiers.  She  spoke  of  this  intention 
to  Zagloba,  who  smilingly  commended  her,  remarking: 

"You  will  be  the  light  of  his  eyes,  and  a  great  curiosity. 
Women  in  a  stanitsa  are  rare." 

"If  necessary  I  will  be  an  example  to  the  soldiers." 

"In  what?" 

"Bravery.  I  am  only  afraid  of  one  thing,  and  that  is  there 
will  be  other  stations  in  Mohilov  and  Rashkov  and  Yahorlik, 
so  far  away  from  Khreptyov  that  we  shall  never  get  a  dose  of 
the  Tartars." 

"And  I  am  only  afraid  of  this,  not  for  myself,  naturally, 
but  for  you,  that  we  shall  have  too  much  of  the  Tartars.  Do 
you  imagine  that  the  Chambuls  always  have  to  pass  through 
Bashkov  and  Mohilov?  They  can  come  into  the  Common- 


PAN    MICHAEL.  !79 

wealth  any  way  fhey  like,  from  the  East,  from  the  Steppes, 
from  the  Moldavian  borders  of  the  Dniester,  even  by  the 
hills  of  Khreptyov,  unless  they  know  I  have  come  to  Khrept- 
yoT;  in  that  ease  they'll  stay  away,  for  they'll  remember  me 
well  enough." 

"Don't  they  know  Michael?    Will  they  not  avoid  him  too?" 

"They  will  avoid  him  unless  they  have  overpowering  num- 
bers, which  might  be  the  case  at  any  time.  But  he  will  go 
for  them." 

"Oh,  Fm  sure  of  it.  Is  Khreptyov  a  real  desert  ?  It  is  not 
so  far  away." 

"Nothing  could  be  more  of  a  desert.  Even  in  my  youth 
it  was  never  thickly  settled  around  Khreptyov.  I  used  to  go 
everywhere  from  farm  to  farm,  village  to  village,  town  to 
town,  knew  everything,  was  everywhere,  and  recollect  the  time 
when  the  place  called  Ushytsa  was  a  fortified  town.  I  was 
made  chief  there  by  Pan  Konyetspolski,  but  it  went  to  rack 
and  ruin  after  the  mob  attacked  it.  It  was  a  perfect  desert 
when  we  went  for  Halshka  Skshetuska,  but  since  then  Cham- 
buls  have  twenty  times  travelled  through  it.  ...  Now 
Pan  Sobieski  has  snatched  it  from  the  Cossacks  and  Tartars 
like  a  bone  from  a  dog's  mouth.  .  .  .  Only  a  few  inhabi- 
tants are  there  now,  for  the  ravines  are  full  of  outlaws."  .  .  . 

Zagloba  looked  around  him  at  the  landscape,  and,  as  mem- 
ories flocked  to  his  mind,  he  nodded  his  head. 

"My  God!"  he  exclaimed,  "when  we  went  for  Halshka1  I 
thought  that  my  belt  encompassed  old  age;  that  happened 
nearly  twenty-four  years  ago,  and  now  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I 
was  young  in  those  days.  Michael  was  only  a  beardless  young- 
ster, he  had  as  many  hairs  on  his  lip  as  I  have  on  my  palm. 
I  remember  this  neighborhood  just  as  if  I  had  seen  it  yes- 
terday. The  only  change  is  in  these  growths  and  pine  forests, 
which  have  grown  up  in  the  places  where  agriculture 
thrived.  .  .  .  ': 

After  passing  Kitaygrod  they  entered  the  dense  pine  forests  I 
of  that  region.  Occasionally  they  passed  through  fields,  which 
became  more  frequent  especially  near  Studzyennitsa;  and, 
after  that  the  border  of  the  Dniester  burst  upon  their  vision 
and  the  open  country  lay  before  them  for  a  great  distance, 
from  the  river  to  the  hills,  with  Moldavia  on  the  horizon  line. 

1  Princess  Helena  the  betrothed  of^Sksheluski.  (See  "  Fire  and  Sword,"  r. 
iii,  by  the  same  author.) 


X    MICHAEL. 

The  road  was  broken  by  deep  gullies,  tKe  haunts  of  wild 
beasts  and  men;  some  of  these  were  narrow  chasms,  and  some 
of  them  were  larger,  the  sides  slightly  sloping,  and  covered 
with  dense  brushwood.  Mellekhovich's  Tartars  picked  their 
way  cautiously,  and  when  the  rear  of  the  escort  was  still  along 
the  high  brink  of  the  ravines,  the  caravan  had  already  de- 
scended, as  it  were  underground.  Basia  and  Zagloba  fre- 
quently had  to  get  out  of  their  wagon;  for,  although  Pan 
Michael  had  had  the  road  put  in  a  certain  order,  some  of  the 
passes  were  unsafe.  In  the  valleys  below  there  were  many 
springs  and  murmuring  stony  brooks,  which  were  fed  in  the 
spring  by  the  melting  snows  of  the  steppes.  Although  the 
sun  was  warm  upon  the  pine-woods  and  steppes,  severe  cold 
still  lurked  in  these  rocky  gorges,  and  the  travellers  were 
seized  unexpectedly.  Pine-forests  covered  the  rocky  sides  of 
the  ravines,  the  trees  were  especially  tall  and  thick  at  the 
edge  of  the  precipices,  as  if  they  wanted  to  prevent  the  cold 
valley  from  sharing  the  sun's  golden  rays;  but  in  some  of  the 
gorges,  the  trees  had  been  felled  and  thrown  upon  each  other 
in  wild  disordered  piles,  with  broken  or  twisted  branches, 
and  covered  with  red  leaves  and  pine  needles. 

"What  became  of  the  forest?"  Basia  asked  Zagloba. 

"Some  of  these  trees  may  have  been  felled  by  the  old  in- 
habitants, for  protection  against  the  horde,  or  they  may  have 
been  made  by  the  outlaws  against  our  men;  the  terrible  Mol- 
davian whirlwinds  may  be  responsible  for  some  places;  there 
is  an  old  saying  that  vampires  and  even  devils  fight  battles 
in  these  whirlwinds." 

"Have  you  ever  seen  devils  fighting,  sir?" 

"No,  I  have  never  seen  them,  but  I  have  heard  them  cry 
'U-kha!  U-kha!'  to  each  other  in  play.  Ask  Michael  about  it, 
he  has  heard  them,  too." 

With  all  her  courage,  Basia  was  afraid  of  evil  spirits,  and 
she  made  the  sign  of  the  cross. 

"A  horrible  place!"  she  said. 

Truly,  it  was  horrible  in  some  of  these  dark  and  awe-in- 
spiring gorges.  There  was  no  wind  to  make  the  branches  and 
leaves  rustle;  the  silence  was  broken  only  by  the  tramping 
and  snorting  of  the  horses,  the  creaking  wagons,  and  the 
cries  of  the  drivers  when  they  came  to  dangerous  places. 
Sometimes  the  Tartars  and  Dragoons  would  begin  to  sing; 
but  the  wilderness  itself  was  not  cheered  by  the  voice  of  man 
or  beast. 


PAN    MICHAEL.  !8i 

While  these  gorgos  had  been  so  gloomy,  the  highland,  not- 
withstanding its  pine-forests,  brought  delight  to  everybody. 
It  was  a  beautiful,  tranquil,  autumnal  day.  From  the  cloud- 
less expanse  of  heaven,  the  sun  lavishly  poured  his  beams  on 
forest,  field,  and  rock.  The  pine-trees  were  reddish  gold,  and 
the  spider-webs  on  the  branches  of  the  trees,  the  reeds,  and 
grasses  seemed  woven  out  of  the  sunlight.  As  it  was  the 
middle  of  October,  many  birds  were  beginning  to  migrate  to 
the  Black  Sea,  and,  therefore,  storks,  geese,  and  teal-ducks 
were  flying  across  the  sky. 

Far  above  in  the  blue  sky,  eagles,  so  dreaded  by  all  fowls 
of  the  air  sailed  with  wide-spread  wings,  and  hawks  were 
slowly  circling  on  the  watch  for  prey.  Nor  were  there  want- 
ing among  the  tall  grasses  of  the  meadows  many  game-birds. 
Every  now  and  then  a  covey  of  partridges  would  rise  in 
front  of  the  Tartar's  horses;  and  Basia  often  saw  bustards 
standing  like  sentinels  in  the  distance,  the  sight  of  which 
made  her  cheeks  flush  and  eyes  sparkle. 

Clapping  her  hands,  she  exclaimed:  "I  will  go  coursing 
with  Michael!" 

"If  your  husband  were  a  stay-at-home,  you  would  soon  turn 
his  beard  gray,"  Zagloba  remarked.  "But  I  knew  the  man  to 
whom  I  married  you.  Some  women  would  be  grateful  to  me, 
Eh?" 

Basia  kissed  Zagloba  first  on  one  cheek  and  then  on  the 
other,  which  greatly  touched  him: 

"Loving  heaiis  are  as  dear  to  an  old  man  as  a  chimney 
corner." 

Then  he  fell  into  a  reverie,  and  added: 

"It  is  strange  that  I  have  always  been  so  fond  of  women; 
I'm  sure  I  couldn't  tell  why  if  I  were  forced  to  explain  it,  for 
they  are  often  wicked,  false,  and  silly.  .  .  .  But  because 
they  are  helpless  as  children  a  man's  heart  goes  out  to  them 
when  they  are  ill-treated.  Will  you  embrace  me  attain,  or 
what?" 

Basia  gratified  the  old  man's  desire,  for  she  was  happy 
enough  to  embrace  the  entire  world,  and  they  continued  their 
journey  in  good  spirits.  The  progress  was  slow,  for  the  oxen 
in  the  rear  could  not  walk  very  fast  and  it  was  unsafe  to  go 
ahead  and  leave  them  with  a  small  guard  of  men  in  this  forest. 

The  land  became  more  broken,  the  desert  lonelier  and  the 
gorges  deeper  as  they  approached  ITshytsa.  There  were  sev- 
eral delays  on  the  road  on  account  of  balking  horses  or  break- 


1 82  PAX    MICHAEL. 

downs.  Sometimes,  too,  they  lost  the  way,  because,  instead 
of  taking  the  road  which  once  led  to  Mohilov,  but  which  had 
been  closed  for  twenty  years  with  forest  growths,  they  had 
to  follow  the  recent  trails  made  by  the  soldiers.  This  also 
entailed  an  accident. 

As  Mellekhovich,  who  was  in  front  of  the  Lipkovs,  entered 
one  of  the  deep  gorges,  his  horse  stumbled  on  the  slope  and 
fell  on  the  rocky  bottom,  injuring  the  rider,  whose  head  was 
so  badly  cut  that  he  was  unconscious  for  quite  a  while.  Ba- 
sia  ordered  the  Tartars  to  lay  him  in  the  wagon  and  to  drive 
carefully;  she  and  Zagloba  mo.unted  horses  which  were  led 
by  the  guards.  Whenever  they  came  to  a  spring  she  made 
them  halt  while  she  herself  bound  his  head  with  cloths  dipped 
in  the  cold  spring  water.  For  a  long  time  he  lay  still  with 
his  eyes  shut,  but,  finally,  he  opened  them;  and  when  Basia 
leaned  over  him  to  inquire  if  he  were  feeling  any  better,  he 
made  no  reply,  but  took  hold  of  her  hand  and  pressed  it  to 
his  white  lips. 

After  a  minute  he  recovered  consciousness  and  said  in  Little 
Russian: 

"Oh,  well!  I  have  not  been  so  well  for  a  long  time." 

The  march  occupied  the  entire  day.  At  last  the  sun  grew 
large  and  red,  and  began  to  set  behind  the  Moldavian  border; 
the  Dnieper  shone  like  a  ribbon  of  fire,  and  from  the  wilder- 
ness on  the  east  darkness  crept  stealthily. 

They  were  now  not  very  far  from  Khreptyov,  but  they 
halted  for  some  time  to  give  the  horses  a  rest. 

One  by  one  the  Dragoons  began  to  intone  their  prayer; 
and  'the  Lipkov  Tartars,  having  dismounted,  spread  their 
sheep-skins  on  the  ground,  knelt  upon  them,  turned  their 
faces  to  the  east,  and  began  to  pray  also.  "Allah!  Allah!"  was 
heard  in  all  the  ranks;  then  there  was  silence;  and  raising 
their  hands  towards  their  faces  with  palms  turned  outwards 
they  continued  their  devout  prayer  in  which  the  phrase 
"Lohichmen  ah  lohichmen"  was  heard  every  now  and  then 
like  a  sigh.  The  red  glow  of  the  sunset  illuminated  them; 
a  breeze  sprang  up  from  the  west;  and  the  trees  began  to  rustle 
as  if  they,  too,  wished  to  murmur  a  prayer  to  God  who  show- 
ers his  glittering  stars  in  thousands  upon  the  dark  firmament. 
Basia  witnessed  the  Tartars  at  prayer  with  great  interest; 
but  her  heart  was  sad  at  the  thought  that  these  men  who 
seemed  to  live  good  and  useful  lives  must  go  to  the  flames 
of  Hell,  and  although  they  came  in  daily  contact  with  Chris- 
tians, chose  to  harden  their  hearts  to  the  true  faith. 


PAN    MICHAEL.  Xg3 

But  Pan  Zagloba,  who  was  accustomed  to  this,  shrugged 
his  shoulders  at  Basia's  concern,  and  said: 

"The  reason  that  these  billy  goats  can't  enter  Heaven  is 
that  they  might  not  introduce  vermin  there." 

Zagloba's  servant  helped  him  to  put  on  a  coat  lined  with 
worsted,  which  is  a  good  protection  against  the  chill  of  the 
evening,  and  the  order  to  move  on  was  given,  but  the  march 
had  barely  started  when  five  horsemen  appeared  in  the  dis- 
tance. 

The  Lipkovs  immediately  made  way. 

"Michael!'.7  screamed  Basia,  as  the  first  horseman  galloped 
up. 

8  ure  enough  it  was  Volodiyovski  who  had  come  to  meet  his 
wife  with  a  small  escort. 

They  dashed  forward  towards  each  other  with  joyous  greet- 
ings, after  which  they  began  to  relate  their  adventures. 

Basia  described  her  journey  and  especially  the  accident 
by  which  Pan  Mellekhovich  injured  his  head  on  the  rocks. 
The  little  knight  described  his  work  at  Khreptyov,  where  he 
said  he  had  employed  five  hundred  men  for  three  weeks  to 
prepare  dwellings  in  readiness  for  her. 

Every  few  minutes  as  they  talked  Pan  Michael  leaned  over 
from  his  saddle  to  put  his  arm  around  his  young  wife;  she 
did  not  seem  to  be  in  the  least  annoyed  at  this,  for  she  rode 
so  near  him  that  the  horses  flanks  almost  touched. 

They  had  nearly  come  to  the  end  of  the  journey;  and  in 
the  meantime  the  beautiful  night  had  fallen,  and  a  large 
golden  moon  rose  from  the  steppes.  As  it  ascended  the  sky, 
however,  it  became  paler  and,  after  a  while  was  nearly  ob- 
scure, on  account  of  flames  which  were  blazing  up  in  the  dis- 
tance ahead  of  the  caravan. 

"What  is  that?"  said  Basia. 

"You  will  find  out,"  said  Pan  Volodiyovski,  twisting  his 
moustache,  "just  as  soon  as  we  shall  have  passed  through  the 
grove  which  separates  us  from  Khreptyov." 

"Have  we  got  to  Kreptyov  already?" 

"If  it  were  not  for  the  trees  you  would  see  it  as  plainly 
as  on  your  palm." 

They  had  not  gone  half  way  through  the  grove  before  a 
swarm  of  lights  were  seen  at  the  further  borders,  like  a 
swarm  of  glow-worms  or  shining  stars.  But  the  lights  came 
nearer  and  nearer  very  rapidly;  and  in  a  few  moments  the 
forest  rang  with  shouts: 


*    MICHAEL. 

"Vivat  our  lady!  Vivat  her  highness!  Yivat  our  lady-com- 
mander! Yivat,  vivat!'' 

Hundreds  of  soldiers  had  come  to  welcome  Basia.  In  a 
few  moments  they  joined  the  Lipkovs.  Each  held  a  long  pole 
with  a  candle  in  the  cleft  end.  Some  had  iron  torch-holders 
on  pikes,  from  which  the  resin  fell  in  blazing  drops. 

In  a  short  time  Basia  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of 
moustached  faces,  which,  although  wild  and  strange,  seemed 
aglow  with  delight.  Basia  was  unknown  to  most  of  them, 
and,  as  they  had  expected  to  see  a  rather  mature  lady,  they 
were  overjoyed  at  the  -sight  of  the  young  girl  on  her  white 
palfrey;  with  her  beautiful  high  color  and  her  joyous  smiles, 
bowing  her  thanks  on  all  sides  for  this  unexpected  reception. 

"Gentlemen,  I  thank  you,"  she  began,  "I  know  that  this 
is  not  in  my  honor,  .  .  .  " 

But  her  silvery  tones  were  drowned  by  the  soldiers'  vivats, 
and  again  the  forest  trembled  with  shouts. 

The  officers  of  the  General  of  Podolia,  and  of  the  under- 
chamberlain  of  Pshemysl,  the  Cossacks  of  Motovidlo,  the 
Lipkov,  and  Cheremi  Tartars  pressed  forward  in  a  mass. 
Everybody  wanted  to  have  a  good  look  at  the  lady-colonel, 
and  to  get  near  her;  some  of  the  most  enthusiastic  among 
them  kissed  the  hem  of  her  skirt,  or  her  foot  in  the  stirrup. 
The  sight  of  a  lady  so  novel  to  these  half  wild  raiders,  inured 
to  bloodshed,  carnage,  and  man-trapping  that  their  hard 
hearts  were  touched  and  a  new  and  strange  feeling  was  kin- 
dled in  their  breasts.  Out  of  affection  to  Volodiyovski  they 
had  come  to  give  her  welcome,  hoping  to  please  and  natter 
him;  but  all  of  a  sudden  their  hearts  were  melted.  Her  sweet, 
smiling,  innocent  face,  aglow  with  excitement,  and  her  shi- 
ning eyes,  they  loved  at  first  sight.  "She  is  our  dear  child!" 
cried  the  old  Cossacks,  those  true  wolves  of  the  steppes.  "Pan 
Colonel,  she  is  a  cherub!"  "She  is  the  dawn!"  "She  is  a 
lovely  little  flower!"  the  officers  shouted.  "We  will  all  die 
for  her!"  .  .  .  The  Cheremis  smacked  their  lips,  placed 
their  hands  on  their  broad  breasts  and  called  "Allah!  Allah!" 

Volodiyovski  was  both  deeply  moved  and  delighted;  he 
looked  .happy  and  proud  of  his  Basia, 

The  shouting  never  ceased.  Finally  the  caravan  issued 
from  the  forest  and  the  new-comers  saw  on  the  high  ground 
before  them  a  circle  of  substantial  wooden  buildings.  The 
stanitsa  of  Khreptyov  was  seen  just  as  well  as  if  it  had  been 
daylight,  for  enormous  bon-fires  of  great  logs  were  burning 


PAX    MICHAEL.  I(S5 

within  the  stockade.     Others,  too  small  to  s«t  fire  to  the 
buildings,  wort1  dotted  about  the  square. 

The  soldiers  extinguished  their  torches;  and  then  they  all 
drew  forth  a  musket,  gun,  or  pistol,  and  fired  a  salute  in 
honor  of  the  lady. 

The  musicians  now  approached:  the  hand  with  its  crooked 
horns,  the  Cossacks  with  their  trumpets,  drums,  and  many 
stringed-instruments,  and  finally  the  Lipkovs  with  their  cus- 
tomary Tartar  instruments.  The  lowing  of  the  frightened 
cattle  and  the  barking  of  the  dogs  added  still  more  to  the 
noise. 

The  convoy  had  now  retired  to  the  rear  while  Basia  rode 
in  front,  with  her  husband  on  one  side  and  Zagloba  on  the 
other.  Above  the  gate,  which  was  gracefully  decorated  with 
boughs  of  fir,  bladders  were  hung,  lighted  from  within  and 
bearing  the  inscription  in  black  letters: 

"May  Cupid  lavish  on  you  many  happy  moments! 

Dear  guests,  crescite,  multiplicamini !" 
"Vivant  floreant!" 

The  soldiers  shouted  as  the  little  knight  and  Basia  stopped 
to  read  these  words  of  greeting. 

"For  God's  sake!"  Zagloba  cried,  "Fm  also  a  guest,  but 
if  you  refer  to  me  in  that  wish  for  multiplication,  may  the 
crows  peck  me  if  I  know  what  to  reply.77 

But  there  was  a  separate  lantern  for  Fan  Zagloba  himself 
and  he  read  it  with  no  small  amount  of  pleasure: 

"Long  live  our  great  and  famous  Onufry  Zagloba, 
The  greatest  ornament  of  the  Polish  knighthood." 

Fan  Michael  was  radiantly  happy;  he  invited  the  officers 
and  companions  to  take  supper  with  him,  and  gave  orders 
that  many  kegs  of  liquor  should  be  given  to  the  soldiers. 
Several  bullocks  fell,  which  were  immediately  roasted  at  the 
bon-fires.  Everybody  was  lavishly  provided  for;  and  far  into 
the  night  the  stanitsa  resounded  with  shouts  and  gun-shots, 
which  greatly  alarmed  the  outlaws  who  lay  hiding  in  the 
gorges  of  Ushytsa, 


CHAPTER  III. 

Volodiyovski  wasted  no  time  in  his  stanitsa  and  kept  his 
men  constantly  at  work.  A  hundred,  or  sometimes  fewer, 
were  kept  to  garrison  Khreptyov  and  the  rest  were  continu- 
ally employed  on  expeditions.  The  larger  bodies  were  sent 
to  clear  the  ravines  of  Ushysta,  and  their  days  were  spent  in 
almost  perpetual  warfare,  for  bands  of  robbers,,  often  very 
numerous,  offered  a  stubborn  resistance,  and  on  more  than 
one  occasion  it  was  necessary  to  fight  a  pitched  battle  with 
them.  These  expeditions  lasted  for  days  and  sometimes  for 
weeks.  Pan  Michael  sent  scouting-parties  as  far  as  Bratslav 
for  intelligence  of  the  horde  and  Doroshenko.  Their  duty 
was  to  return  with  men  who  could  give  information,  and 
these  they  had  to  capture  on  the  steppes.  Some  descended 
the  Dniester  to  Mohilov  and  Yampol,  to  keep  in  touch  with 
the  commander  of  those  places;  some  kept  watch  on  the  Mol- 
davian border,  and  others  built  bridges  and  repaired  the  old 
road. 

The  country,  in  which  such  active  measures  were  taken, 
was  not  long  in  becoming  pacified.  The  more  peaceful  and 
less  predatory  portion  of  the  inhabitants  gradually  returned 
to  their  deserted  dwellings,  at  first  in  stealth,  and  then  more 
boldly.  A  few  Jewish  traders  came  to  Khreptyov;  sometimes 
a  richer  Armenian  merchant  arrived,  and  shop-keepers  began 
to  pay  more  frequent  visits.  Pan  Michael  therefore  had  well- 
!  founded  hopes  that,  if  God  and  the  Hetman  would  allow  him 
to  stay  longer  in  his  command,  the  country  which  had  be- 
come desolate  would  soon  assume  another  garb.  The  work 
had  scarcely  begun  yet;  there  was  still  a  great  deal  to  be  done; 
the  roads  were  not  yet  safe;  the  demoralized  inhabitants  fra- 
ternized more  willingly  with  robbers  than  with  the  soldiers, 
and  at  the  least  provocation,  hid  themselves  in  the  rocky 
ravines;  the  fords  of  the  Dniester  were  often  stealthily  cros- 
sed by  bands  composed  of  Wallachians,  Cossacks,  Hungarians, 
Tartars,  and  God  knows  who.  These  bands  raided  the 
(186) 


PAN    MICHAEL.  iSj 

country,  attacking  towns  and  villages  in  the  Tartar  way,  seiz- 
ing everything  they  could  lay  their  hands  on;  for  some  time 
yet  it  would  not  be  possible  to  lay  aside  the  sword  in  that 
district,  or  to  hang  up  the  musket;  but  a  beginning  had  been 
made  and  the  future  looked  very  promising. 

It  was  necessary  to  keep  sharp  watch  towards  the  East. 
For  from  Doroshenko's  following  and  his  allied  chambuK 
larger  or  smaller  bodies  were  detached  from  time  to  time,  and 
attacking  the  Polish  forces  they  laid  waste  the  surrounding 
districts  with  fire  and  sword.  But  since  these  were  independ- 
ent marauders,  or  at  least  appeared  so,  the  little  knight  broke 
them  up  without  fear  of  bringing  down  a  greater  tempest  on 
the  land;  and  without  ceasing  his  attempts  to  make  head 
against  them,  he  hunted  them  in  the  steppes  with  such  effect, 
that  before  long  he  made  the  most  audacious  unwilling  to 
attack  him. 

In  the  meantime,  Basia  was  the  manager  at  Khreptyov. 

She  was  greatly  pleased  with  this  military  life,  which  never 
before  had  she  seen  so  closely — the  stir,  the  marches  and 
counter-marches,  the  expeditions,  and  the  sight  of  prisoners. 
She  told  Part  Michael  that  she  must  share  in  at  least  one  ex- 
pedition, but  for  the  present,  she  had  to  satisfy  herself  with 
occasionally  mounting  her  horse  and  visiting  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Khreptyov  in  company  with  her  husband  and  Pan 
Zagloba.  On  these  occasions  she  hunted  foxes  and  bustards; 
occasionally  a  fox  would  spring  out  of  the  grass  and  dart  along 
the  valley.  Then  they  would  hunt  him,  Basia  doing  her  best 
to  keep  ahead,  immediately  behind  the  hounds,  so  as  to  be  the 
first  to  spring  on  the  jaded  animal  and  discharge  her  pistol 
between  his  fiery  eyes. 

Pan  Zagloba  much  preferred  to  hunt  with  falcons,  several 
very  good  ones  of  which  were  possessed  by  the  officers. 

Basia  also  accompanied  him,  but  Pan  Michael,  unknown  to 
her,  had  her  followed  by  a  few  dozen  men  to  render  aid  in 
case  of  need.  For  though  in  Khreptyov  they  were  always 
well  posted  as  to  the  movements  in  the  wilderness  for  twenty 
miles  around,  still  Pan  Michael  preferred  to  be  cautious.  The 
soldiers  daily  became  fonder  of  Basia,  for  she  was  attentive  in 
the  matter  of  their  rations  and  nursed  the  sick  and  wounded. 
Even  the  sullen  Mellekhovich,  who  suffered  from  continuous 
headache  and  whose  heart  was  more  savage  and  rugged  than 
the  others,  brightened  up  at  her  sight.  Old  soldiers  went 
into  raptures  over  her  knightly  daring  and  familiarity  with 
military  matters. 


jgg  fAX    MICHAEL. 

"If  the  Little  Falcon  were  away,"  they  exclaimed,  "She 
might  assume  command  and  it  would  not  be  hard  to  fall  undei 
such  a  leader." 

Sometimes,  moreover,  it  happened  when  some  disturbances 
arose  among  the  men  during  the  absence  of  Volodiyovski, 
Basia  would  grumble  at  them,  and  obtained  immediate  sub- 
mission; veterans  cared  more  for  a  reproof  from  her  lips  than 
for  any  punishment  which  the  strict  Pan  Michael  relentlessly 
imposed  for  any  breach  of  duty. 

Strict  discipline  always  reigned,  for  Pan  Michael,  trained 
in  the  school  of  Prince  Yeremy,  knew  how  to  rule  soldiers 
with  an  iron  hand;  and  besides  this,  Basia's  presence  some- 
what softened  their  wild  ways.  They  all  tried  to  please  her 
and  cared  for  her  peace  and  comfort,  avoiding  everything 
that  might  worry  her. 

In  the  light  cavalry  of  Pan  Mikolay  Pototski,  there  were 
many  courtly  and  experienced  officers  who,  although  they 
had  become  rough  through  constant  warfare  and  expeditions, 
were  still  a  pleasant  set  of  fellows.  In  company  with  officers 
of  other  squadrons  they  often  spent  a  pleasant  evening  with 
the  Colonel,  relating  their  past  exploits  and  battles  in  which 
they  had  taken  part.  First  among  these  was  Pan  Zagloba. 
He  was  older  than  any;  he  had  seen  more  and  shown  more; 
but  when  after  one  or  two  goblets  he  dozed  comfortably  in  a 
padded  chair,  purposely  .brought  for  him,  others  would  begin. 
They  also  had  experiences  to  relate,  for  some  among  them 
had  visited  Sweden  and  Moscow;  some  had  spent  their  early 
years  at  the  Sich,  in  the  time  of  Khmyelnitski;  some  had 
herded  sheep  in  the  Crimea  in  captivity;  others  as  slaves,  had 
dug  wells  in  Bakhche  Serai;  or  had  visited  Asia  Minor,  or 
rowed  Turkish  galleys  through  the  Archipelago,  or  had  pros- 
trated themselves  before  Christ's  sepulchre,  undergoing  every 
adventure  and  hardship,  and  yet  again  appearing  beneath  the 
flag  to  defend  these  borders  soaked  with  blood  to  their  last 
day  and  with  their  last  breath. 

In  November,  as  the  evenings  lengthened  and  peace  reigned 
on  the  edge  of  the  wide  steppes,  for  the  grass  had  now 
withered,  they  would  assemble  every  day  at  the  Colonel's 
quarters.  Hither  came  Pan  Motovidlo,  the  leader  of  the 
Semenov  Cossacks,  a  Russian  by  birth,  with  a  figure  as  thin 
as  a  pair  of  tongs  and  as  tall  as  a  lance.  His  youth  was  be- 
hind him,  for  he  had  kept  the  field  for  more  than  twenty 
years,  Hither  too  came  Pan  Deyma?  the  brother  of  him  who 


PAN    MICHAEL.  jgg 

had  alain  Pan  Ubysh;  and  Pan  Mushalski,  who  had  once  been 
wealthy,  but  being  captured  in  youth,  had  pulled  an  oar  in  a 
Turkish  galley,  and  escaping  from  captivity  had  turned  his 
property  over  to  others,  and  sword  in  hand,  was  avenging  his 
injuries  on  the  followers  of  Mohammed.  He  was  a  matchless 
archer,  and  at  will,  could  transfix  a  heron  with  an  arrow  on  its 
lofty  flight.  Thither  also  came  the  two  Chiefs  Pan  Vilga 
and  Pan  Nyenashinyets,  mighty  warrrio»rs,  and  Pan  Hromyka 
and  Pan  Bavdynovich,  and  many  others.  When  they  began 
to  tell  tales,  and  warm  up  in  their  talk,  the  whole  of  the  East 
was  pictured  in  their  narratives — Bakhche  Serai  and 
Stambul,  the  minarets  and  mosques  of  the  false  Prophet,  the 
blue  waters  of  the  Bosphorus,  the  fountains  and  the  Sultan's 
palace,  the  throngs  of  people  in  the  City  of  Stone,  the  soldiers, 
the  janissaries,  the  dervishes  and  the  whole  of  that  terrible 
swarm  of  locusts,  many-hued  as  a  rain-bow,  against  which  the 
Commonwealth  with  bleeding  breast  was  defending  the  Rus- 
sian Cross,  and  consequently  all  the  crosses  and  churches  of 
Europe. 

The  old  warriors  sat  around  the  large  room  in  a  circle,  like 
a  flock  of  storks  who,  wearied  with  flight,  had  alighted  on 
some  bank  in  the  steppes  and  were  making  a  noisy  clucking. 

Pine  logs  were  burning  on  the  hearth,  casting  bright  re- 
flections throughout  the  room.  By  Basia's  orders,  attend- 
ants warmed  Moldavian  wine  at  the  fire  and  ladled  it  out  to 
the  knights.  The  cries  of  the  sentries  were  heard  outside; 
the  crickets,  of  which  Pan  Michael  had  complained,  were 
chirping  in  the  room,  and  in  the  cracks  that  were  stuffed  with 
moss  the  November  wind  from  the  North  blew  more  and 
more  coldly.  When  it  was  so  cold,  it  was  delightful  to  sit  in 
a  comfortable.,  well-lighted  room,  and  hear  the  experiences  of 
the  knights. 

One  evening,  Pan  Mushalski  began  as  follows: — 

"May  the  Most  High  have  the  whole  sacred  Commonwealth 
in  his  keeping,  and  all  of  us,  and  more  especially  the  lady  hero 
present,  the  gracious  wife  of  our  commander,  on  whose  loveli- 
ness our  blind  eyes  are  unworthy  to  rest.  I  have  no  desire  to 
rival  Pan  Zagloba,  whose  adventures  would  have  been  marvel- 
lous, even  in  the  eyes  of  Dido  herself  and  her  charming 
maidens,  but  if  you  gentlemen  can  spare  the  time  to  hear  my 
adventures,  I  will  not  be  long-winded,  for  fear  of  boring  this 
honorable  company." 

"In  my  young  days,  I  inherited  a  considerable  estate  near 


I  go  TAN    MICHAEL. 

Tarashch,  in  the  Ukraine.  My  mother  left  me  two  villages 
in  a  quiet  district  near  Yaslo,  but  I  preferred  to  live  on  my 
father's  estate,  as  it  was  nearer  the  Horde  and  more  exposed 
to  adventure.  I  was  attracted  towards  the  Sich  by  the 
cavalier  spirit,  but  there  was  nothing  for  us  there  then;  in 
company  with  other  restless  spirits,  therefore,  I  went  to  the 
Steppes  and  enjoyed  myself  immensely.  It  was  pleasant 
enough  on  my  own  estates;  there  was  only  one  thing  that 
greatly  troubled  me,  a  disagreeable  neighbor.  He  was  a  com- 
mon peasant  and  came  from  Byalotserkov,  having  been  at 
the  Sich  in  his  early  years,  where  he  rose  to  the  rank  of 
Kurzen  Ataman,  and  acted  as  an  envoy  from  the  Cossacks  to 
Warsaw,  where  he  was  ennobled.  Didyuk  was  his  name. 
You  must  know,  gentlemen,  that  we  derived  our  origin  from 
a  certain  chief  of  the  Samnites,  called  Musca,  which  in  our 
language  means  a  fly.  This  Musca  after  various  futile  at- 
tempts against  the  Romans  came  to  the  court  of  Zyemyovit, 
the  son  of  Piast,  who,  for  the  sake  of  greater  convenience, 
called  him  Muscalski,  which  his  descendants  afterwards 
changed  to  Mushalski.  Knowing  that  I  came  of  such  noble 
blood,  I  regarded  that  Didyuk  with  great  abomination.  If 
the  low  fellow  had  known  how  to  respect  his  honor  and  to 
recognize  the  exalted  rank  of  a  noble,  I  should  have  had  no- 
thing to  say.  But  he  who  held  lands  as  a  noble,  made  a  mock 
of  the  dignity,  and  often  said,  'Is  my  shadow  any  greater  than 
it  used  to  be?  A  Cossack  I  was  and  a  Cossack  I  will  remain; 
but,  as  for  nobility  and  all  you  Poles  .  .  .  that's  the  way  I 
regard  you.'  Gentlemen,  I  cannot  describe  to  you  here  with 
what  a  vile  gesture  he  accompanied  his  words,  since  the  pres- 
ence of  her  ladyship  forbids  it;  but  it  enraged  me  and  I  began 
to  antagonize  him.  It  did  not  frighten  him,  for  he  was  a  dar- 
ing character  and  paid  me  smart-money.  I  would  have  at- 
tacked him  with  a  sword,  but  did  not  like  to,  on  account  of  his 
low  blood.  I  hated  him  like  a  pestilence,  and  he  venomously 
hunted  me.  Once  in  the  market-place  of  Tarashch,  he  fired 
and  only  missed  me  by  a  hair,  and  in  return  I  split  his  head 
open  with  a  hatchet.  Twice  I  attacked  his  place  with  my 
followers,  and  twice  he  assaulted  mine  with  his  bandits. 
Neither  of  us  could  get  the  better  of  the  other.  I  wanted  to 
set  the  law  in  motion  against  him,  but  bah!  what  law  is  there 
in  the  Ukraine,  when  the  smoking  ruins  of  towns  are  still  to 
be  seen.  He  who  can  gather  together  a  band  of  villains  in 
the  Ukraine  may  scorn  the  whole  Commonwealth.  That's 


PAN   MICHAEL.  I9! 

what  he  did,  and  blasphemed  the  name  of  our  common 
mother,  not  considering  for  a  moment,  that  by  ennobling 
him,  she  had  taken  him  to  her  breast  and  endowed  him  with 
privileges,  by  virtue  of  which  he  owned  estates,  and  with  that 
perfect  liberty  which  he  could  not  have  enjoyed  under  any 
other  dominion.  If  we  could  have  met  as  neighbors,  I  could 
have  argued  with  him,  but  we  only  saw  each  other  with  a  gun 
in  one  hand  and  a  fire-brand  in  the  other.  My  hatred  for 
him  increased  daily  till  my  face  became  yellow.  One  sole 
thought  possessed  me,  that  was,  to  get  possession  of  him. 
However,  I  realized  that  hatred  was  a  sin  and,  to  requite  all 
his  insults  to  our  nobility,  my  only  desire  was  to  lacerate  his 
skin  with  rods,  and  then,  forgiving  all  his  sins,  as  became  a 
true  Christian,  merely  to  order  him  to  be  shot " 

"But  the  Almighty  ordained  otherwise." 

"Outside  the  village  I  owned  a  fine  bee-farm,  and  one  day  I 
went  to  look  at  it.  Evening  was  coming  on.  I  remained 
there  for  the  space  of  almost  ten  'paters,"  when  I  heard  a 
noise.  I  looked  around;  smoke  hung  above  the  village  like 
a  cloud.  In  another  minute  people  came  running  towards 
me,  crying,  "The  Horde,  the  Horde'/  And  right  behind 
the  people  a  multitude  was  advancing.  Arrows  were  falling 
as  thick  as  rain-drops,  and  in  every  direction  sheepskin  coats 
and  the  devilish  snouts  of  the  Horde  were  to  be  seen.  I,  to 
my  horse.  But  before  I  could  get  my  foot  in  the  stirrup,  five 
or  six  lassos  were  about  me.  I  struggled,  for  I  was  powerful 
at  that  time  ....  Nee  Hercules!.  .  .  Three  months  later, 
in  company  with  other  captives,  I  found  myself  in  a  Tartar 
village  called  Suhaydzig  beyond  Bakhche-Serai." 

"My  master's  name  was  Salma  Bey.  He  was  a  wealthy 
Tartar,  but  a  savage  man  and  cruel  to  captives.  With  whips 
we  were  driven  to  work  in  the  fields  and  to  dig  wells.  I 
wanted  to  ransom  myself,  for  I  was  able  to  do  so.  By  the 
medium  of  a  certain  Armenian,  I  sent  letters  to  the  holders  of 
my  estate,  near  Yaslo.  Whether  the  letters  were  delivered, 
or  the  ransom  intercepted,  I  know  not,  it  is  sufficient  that  it 
did  not  arrive.  .  .  .  They  carried  me  to  Tsarogrod  and  sold 
me  to  the  galleys. 

"There  is  much  to  say  about  that  city,  for  I  doubt  if  in  all 
the  world  there  is  one  finer  or  larger.  There,  people  are  as 
numerous  as  grass  on  the  steppes  or  stones  in  the  Dniester.  .  . 
The  walls  are  grim  and  embattled,  tower  on  tower.  Dogs 
wander  about  the  city  mingling  with  the  people  in  the  parks; 


jg2  PAX 

they  are  not  interfered  with  by  the  Turks,  and  it  i.5  therefore 
obvious  that  they  feel  themselves  rebiled  to  them,  being  dog- 
brothers  themselves.  Among  them  there  are  no  ranks  but 
nobles  and  slaves,  and  nothing  more  dreadful  can  be  imagined 
than  captivity  among  the  Infidels.  Heaven  only  knows 
whether  it  is  true,  but  in  the  galleys  I  heard  that  those  waters 
including  the  Bosphorus  and  the  Golden  Horn  which  flows  to 
the  heart  of  the  City,  have  been  produced  by  the  tears  of  cap- 
tives. Not  a  few  of  my  own  fell  there. 

"Awful  is  the  Turkish  Dominion,  and  no  potentate  has  so 
many  subject  kings  as  the  Sultan.  The  Turks  themselves 
say  if  it  had  not  been  for  Lekhistan  (the  name  they  give  our 
mother-country)  they  would  long  since  have  been  masters  of 
the  whole  world.  'Behind  the  Polish  shoulders/  they  say, 
'the  rest  of  the  world  dwells  under  injustice;'  for  the  Pole  lies 
in  front  of  the  cross  like  a  dog  and  bites  our  hands/  And 
they  are  right,  for  so  it  was  and  so  it  is.  .  .  Here  in  Khreptyov 
and  the  more  distant  posts  of  Mohilov,  Yampol,  and  Rashkov, 
what  else  are  we  doing?  There  is  an  enormous  amount  of 
wickedness  in  our  Commonwealth,  but  some  day  I  think  that 
God  will  take  into  account  these,  our  deeds,  and  perhaps  men 
will  also. 

"But  to  return  to  what  occurred  to  me.  The  captives  who 
are  kept  on  shore  in  towns  and  villages  groan  under  less  suf- 
fering than  those  at  the  oars  in  galleys.  For  when  once  the 
galley-slaves  have  been  riveted  to  the  bench  beside  the  oars 
they  are  never  released  neither  night  nor  day,  nor  on  feast- 
days;  there  they  must  live  in  chains  till  they  die;  and  if  the 
galley  sinks  in  a  battle,  they  too  must  sink  with  it.  They  are 
all  'naked,  they  are  frozen  with  cold  and  soaked  with  rain, 
they  are  pinched  with  hunger,  and  for  all  this  there  is  no 
remedy,  but  tears  and  dreadful  labor,  for  the  oars  are  so  large 
and  heavy  that  it  takes  two  men  to  work  one  of  them.  .  .  . 

"They  took  me  there  at  night  and  riveted  my  chains  in 
front  of  some  companion  in  misfortune,  whom  I  could  not  re- 
cognize in  the  darkness.  When  I  heard  the  blows  of  the  ham- 
mer, and  the  sound  of  the  shackles, — Great  God!  it  sounded 
to  me  as  if  they  were  driving  nails  into  my  coffin,  and  even 
that,  I  should  rather  have  preferred.  I  prayed,  but  in  my 
heart  hope  was  as  though  it  had  been  blown  away  by  the  wind. 
Akavadji  silenced  my  moans  with  blows  and  I  sat  all  night, 
till  dawn.  .  .  Then  I  glanced  at  the  man  who  bad  to  help  me 
work  the  oar.  Dear  Jesus  Christ!  Guess  who  was  in  front  of 
me?  It  was  Didyuk! 


PAN    MICHAEL.  jg-j 

"I  recognized  him  immediately,  although  he  was  naked 
and  emaciated  and  his  beard  reached  to  his  belt,  for  it 
was  long  since  he  had  been  sold  to  the  galleys.  .  .  We  gazed 
at  each  other,  and  he  recognized  me.  .  .  We  did  not  address 
a  word  to  each  other.  .  .  Think  what  had  happened  to  us.  .  . 
And  yet,  so  great  was  our  mutual  rancour  that  not  only  did 
we  not  greet  each  other,  but  hatred  flamed  up  anew  in  our 
hearts,  and  each  gloated  over  the  thought  that  his  foe  had  to 
suffer  the  same  as  himself.  .  .  The  galley  started  on  its  voy- 
age that  same  day.  It  was  strange  to  pull  the  same  oar  with 
your  greatest  foe;  to  eat  from  the  same  dish  with  him  food 
which  even  the  dogs  would  not  touch  at  home,  to  bear  the 
same  tyranny,  to  breathe  the  same  air,  to  suffer  and  weep  side 
by  side.  .  .  We  rowed  through  the  Hellespont  and  then  the 
Archipelago.  .  .  There  are  islands  upon  islands,  and  all 
under  Turkish  dominion.  .  .  Both  shores  likewise,  .  .  .  the 
whole  world.  It  was  very  hard.  By  day  the  heat  was  inde- 
scribable. The  sun  burned  with  sufti  power  that  the  water 
seemed  to  be  aflame  with  it,  and  when  that  fire  begun  to 
tremble  and  leap  on  the  waves,  you  would  have  said  that  a 
fiery  rain  was  coming  down.  We  were  drowned  in  perspir- 
ation and  our  tongues  clove  to  the  roofs  of  our  mouths.  .  .  . 
At  night  the  cold  bit  us  like  a  dog.  .  .  There  was  no  relief 
anywhere — nothing,  but  suffering,  grief  for  lost  happiness, 
pangs,  and  torments.  Words  cannot  express  it.  .  .  In  one 
place  in  the  land  of  Greece,  from  the  vessel,  we  caught  sight 
of  the  celebrated  ruins  of  a  temple  erected  by  the  Greeks  in 
ancient  days.  Column  stands  beside  column  looking  like 
gold,  the  marble  is  so  yellow  with  age.  It  stood  out  sharply, 
as  it  was  on  a  steep  height,  and  there  the  sky  is  as  blue  as 
turquoise.  .  .  After  that  we  sailed  around  the  Peloponesus. 
Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  passed  on  without  Didyuk 
and  myself  exchanging  a  single  word,  for  our  hearts  were  still 
full  of  pride  and  hostility.  .  .  But  under  the  hand  of  God 
we  slowly  began  to  break  down.  With  excessive  labor  and 
changes  of  temperature  the  sinful  flesh  begun  to  fall  from  our 
bones;  the  wounds  caused  by  the  lash  festered  in  the  sun. 
All  night  we  prayed  for  death.  When  I  fell  into  a  light  doze, 
I  could  hear  Didyuk  cry,  'Christ,  have  mercy!  Most  pure  and 
holy,  have  mercy!  let  me  die!7  He  also  could  hear  and  see 
me  stretch  forth  my  hands  to  the  Mother  of  God  and  her 
Child.  .  .  And  this  is  how  it  cnme  to  pass  that  the  sea  wind 
seemed  to  have  blown  the  hatred  out  of  our  hearts,  ,  .  It 
13 


I94  PAN   MICHAEL. 

constantly  grew  less  and  less.  .  .  At  last,  after  weeping  over 
myself,  I  came  to  weep  over  him.  We  then  came  to  regard 
each  other  with  changed  eyes.  Bah !  we  began  to  assist  each 
other.  When  I  would  be  overcome  with  sweat  and  mortal 
weariness,  he  would  row  alone.  When  he  fell  into  the  same 
condition  I  did  the  same  for  him.  .  .  When  they  brought  us 
a  mess,  each  one  wanted  the  other  to  have  it;  but,  gentlemen, 
see  how  strange  is  man's  nature!  Speaking  plainly  we  already 
loved  one  another  and  yet  neither  wanted  to  be  the  first  to  say 
the  word.  .  .  The  rascal,  the  old  Ukraine  spirit.  The  change 
only  came  when  matters  were  becoming  dreadfully  hard  for 
us,  and  they  said,  'to-morrow  we  shall  come  across  the  Vene- 
tian fleet/  Moreover,  provisions  were  scarce  and  we  were 
deprived  of  almost  everything  except  the  lash.  Night  came, 
we  were  faintly  moaning,  and  in  our  different  ways  were  pray- 
ing more  earnestly  than  ever.  By  the  light  of  the  moon  I 
could  see  the  tears  running  down  his  beard  in  streams.  My 
heart  smote  me.  I  saM:  'Didyuk,  we  come  from  the  same 
locality;  let  us  forgive  each  other!'  When  he  heard  this, 
great  God!  How  he  did  sob  and  strain  at  his  chains  till  they 
clanked!  We  fell  into  one  another's  arms  across  the  oar  and 
kissed  and  wept  over  each  other.  I  can't  tell  you  how  long 
we  were  clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  for  we  had  forgotten 
ourselves,  and  shook  with  sobs." 

At  this  point,  Pan  Mushalski  stopped  and  passed  his  hand 
across  his  eyes.  A  moment's  silence  ensued  and  the  cold 
north  wind  was  heard  whistling  between  the  cracks  of  the 
beams,  while  the  fire  crackled  and  the  crickets  chirped  in  the 
room.  Then  Pan  Mushalski  gasped,  drew  a  long  breath  and 
proceeded: 

"As  you  will  see,  the  Lord  God  blessed  us  and  showed  his 
favor  to  us  in  the  end,  but  we  paid  dearly  for  our  brotherly 
affection  at  the  time.  As  we  were  embracing,  we  tangled  up 
the  chains,  so  that  we  could  not  disentangle  them.  The  over- 
seers came,  first  they  separated  us,  then  the  lash  was  laid 
across  our  backs  for  more  than  an  hour.  They  struck  us 
without  caring  where,  the  blood  flowed  both  from  me  and 
Didyuk  and  mingled  in  one  stream  as  it  trickled  to  the  sea. 
But  that  is  nothing,  it's  all  over  now,  Glory  be  to  God!  .  .  . 

"From  that  moment  it  never  again  came  into  my  head  that 
I  was  a  descendant  of  the  Samnites  and  he  a  recently-ennobled 
peasant  from  Byalotserkov.  I  could  not  have  loved  my  own 
brother  more  than  I  loved  him.  I  should  not  have  cared 


PAN   MICHAEL.  I95 

even  if  he  had  not  been  ennobled,  though  of  course,  I  would 
rather  that  he  should  be  one;  and  to  the  same  degree  that  he 
had  formerly  requited  my  hatred  he  now  returned  me  love 
and  with  interest.  That  was  his  nature.  .  .  . 

"The  next  day  there  was  a  battle.  The  Venetians  dispersed 
our  fleet  to  the  four  winds.  Our  galley  was  terribly  injured 
by  a  culverin,  and  sought  refuge  at  a  little  desert  island, 
which  was  nothing  more  than  a  rock  protruding  from  the  K&\. 
We  had  io  make  repairs;  and,  because  all  the  soldiers  had 
perished  and  we  were  short  of  hands,  the  officers  had  to  un- 
chain us  and  give  us  axes.  Immediately  upon  landing  I 
looked  at  Didyuk,  but  the  same  thought  had  occurred  to  him. 
'Immediately?'  he  asked  me.  'Immediately/  I  said,  and 
without  any  further  thought  I  struck  the  chubach  across  the 
head  and  Didyuk  served  the  captain  in  the  same  way.  Then 
the  others  rose  with  us  like  a  flame.  In  an  hour  we  had  made 
Ian  end  of  the  Turks.  Then  we  made  some  kind  of  repairs  to 
the  galley,  took  our  seats  in  it,  unshackled,  and  the  God  of 
Mercy  commanded  the  breezes  to  waft  us  to  Venice. 

"We  gained  the  Commonwealth  by  begging  our  way.  I 
shared  my  estate  at  Yaslo  with  Didyuk,  and  together  we 
again  sought  the  field  to  make  reprisals  for  our  tears  and  our 
blood.  In  the  days  of  Podhayets,  Did}Oik  traversed  the  Sich 
to  join  Sirka  and  accompanied  him  to  the  Crimea.  Their 
deeds  and  exploits  there  are  well  known  to  you  gentlemen! 

"On  his  way  back,  Didyuk,  glutted  with  vengeance,  was 
slain  by  an  arrow.  Then  I  only  was  left,  and  every  time  I 
bend  a  bow,  I  do  it  for  him,  and  among  the  present  worthy 
company  there  are  witnesses  who  can  testify  that  on  more 
than  one  occasion  I  have  gladdened  his  spirit  in  that  manner." 

Here  Pan  Mushalski  ended.  Again  all  was  silence,  but  for 
the  howling  of  the  north  wind  and  the  crackling  of  the  flames. 
The  old  warrior  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  blazing  logs  and  after  a 
protracted  silence  concluded  as  follows : 

"We  have  had  Nalevayko  and  Loboda;  we  have  had 
Khmyelnitski  and  now  we  have  Dorosh;  the  earth  has  not 
drunk  up  all  the  blood.  We  are  in  the  midst  of  strife  and 
struggle  and  yet  God  has  sown  some  seeds  of  love  in  our 
hearts  and  they  lie  in  barren  ground,  so  to  speak,  till  under 
the  tyranny  and  lash  of  the  pagan,  or  under  Tartar  captivity, 
they  unexpectedly  bring  forth  fruit." 

"Stuff  and  nonsense,"  suddenly  cried  Zagloba,  as  he  awoke. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

1 

Mellekhovich  was  slowly  recovering  but,  as  he  did  not  join 
in  any  expeditions,  and  was  confined  to  his  own  room,  no 
one  paid  any  attention  to  him.  But  suddenly  something  oc- 
curred that  attracted  everybody's  attention  to  him. 

Pan  Motovidlo's  Cossacks  captured  a  Tartar  who  wa.s 
hanging  about  the  Stanitsa  in  a  suspicious  manner,  and 
brought  him  to  Khreptyov.  After  a  searching  examination 
of  the  captive,  he  turned  out  to  be  a  Lipkov  Tartar,  but  one 
of  those  who  had  broken  their  fealty  and  deserted  the  Com- 
monwealth to  reside  in  the  Sultan's  dominions.  He  came 
from  the  other  side  of  the  Dniester  and  had  a  letter  for 
Mellekhovich  from  Krychinski. 

This  greatly  troubled  Pan  Volodiyovski,  who  immediately 
called  a  council  of  his  chiefs. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "you  are  all  aware  of  how  many 
Lipkov  Tartars,  even  of  those  who  have  lived  for  time  out 
of  mind  in  Lithuania  and  here  in  Russia,  have  now  joined 
the  Horde,  requiting  the  kindness  of  the  Commonwealth 
with  treason.  We  therefore  ought  not  to  put  too  much  trust 
in  any  one  of  them,  and  should  keep  a  watchful  eye  upon  all 
their  doings.  There  is  also  a  small  squadron  of  Lipkov  Tar- 
tars, numbering  one  hundred  and  fifty  good  cavalry,  led  by 
Mellekhovich.  I  have  not  long  been  acquainted  with  Mellek- 
hovich; I  only  know  that  the  Hetman  made  him  a  captain 
for  his  great  services,  and  sent  him  here  with  his  men.  It 
was,  moreover,  surprising  to  me,  that  not  one  of  you  had 
known  or  heard  of  him  before  he  took  service.  .  .  The 
j  fact  that  he  is  greatly  loved  and  blindly  obeyed  by  our  Tar- 
tars I  have  accounted  for  by  his  courage  and  great  exploits; 
but  even  they  do  not  know  who  he  is  or  whence  he  came. 
Trusting  in  the  Hetman's  recommendations,  I  have  not 
hitherto  been  suspicious  of  him,  nor  have  I  watched  him, 
though  he  surrounds  himself  with  a  certain  amount  of  mys- 
tery. Some  people  have  strange  fancies,  and  as  for  me,  it 
is  not  my  business  so  long  as  every  man  performs  his  duty. 
(196) 


PAN    MICHAEL.  I97 

But  you  see,  Pan  Motovidle's  men  have  captured  the  Tartar 
who  is  the  bearer  of  the  letter  to  Mellckovich  from  Kry- 
chinski,  and  gentlemen,  1  am  not  aware  whether  you  know 
who  Krychinski  is." 

Pan  Nyenashinyets  exclaimed,  "I  am  personally  acquainted 
with  Krychinski,  and  of  course  his  evil  notoriety  has  made 
his  name  familiar  to  us  all." 

"We  went  to  school  together  .  .  .  "  Pan  Zagloba  was 
beginning;  but  recollecting  that,  in  that  case,  Krychinski 
must  be  ninety  years  of  age,  and  that  men  did  not  usually 
fight  at  that  age,  he  stopped  short. 

"In  a  word,"  the  little  knight  continued,  "Krychinski  is  a 
Polish  Tartar.  He  was  colonel  in  one  of  our  Tartar  regi- 
ments, but  'he  betrayed  his  country,  and  went  over  to  the 
Dobnidja  Horde,  where  I  hear  he  has  gained  great  influence, 
for  there  they  are  evidently  in  hopes  that  he  will  be  able  to 
induce  the  rest  of  the  Lipkovs  to  join  the  Pagans.  It  is 
will i  this  kind  of  man  that  Mellekhovich  has  entered  into 
communication,  the  best  proof  of  which  is  this  letter,  the 
substance  of  which  is  as  follows:" 

The  little  knight  opened  the  letter,  struck  it  with  his  hand, 
and  commenced  reading: 

"Dearly  Beloved  Brother  of  my  soul: — Your  messenger 
came  to  us  and  delivered  a  letter.  .  .  , 

"He  writes  in  Polish/  'interrupted  Zagloba. 

"Like  the  rest  of  our  Tartars,  Krychinski  is  only  ac- 
quainted with  Russian  and  Polish,"  said  the  little  knight, 
"and  Mellekhovich  also  will  certainly  not  gnaw  in  Tartar. 
Listen,  gentlemen,  and  don't  interrupt:" 

"God  grant  that  all  may  be  well,  and  that  you  may  succeed 
in  all  your  desires.  We  often  consult  here  with  Moravski, 
Alexsandrovich,  Tarasovski  and  Grokholski  and  communi- 
cate with  other  brethren  to  obtain  their  advice  also  as  to  the 
means  by  which  all  that  thou,  beloved,  desirest  may  be 
brought  about  with  least  delay.  We  received  news  of  how 
you  have  'suffered  in  health,  and  so  I  send  a  man  ;  to  see 
for  himself  how  you  are,  and  bring  us  good  news.  Be  care- 
ful to  keep  the  matter  secret,  for  God  forbid  that  it  should 
prematurely  come  to  light!  May  God  multiply  your  descend- 
ants like  the  stars  in  the  sky!"  Krychinski." 

Pan  Michael  concluded,  and  gazed  at  those  present,  and,  as 
they  kept  silent,  evidently  meditating  on  the  contents  of  the 
letter,  he  said: 


I9g  l'A\    MICHAEL. 

"Tarasovski,  Moravski,  (Irokliolski,  and  Alekeaudrovich, 
were  all  formerly  Tartar  captains  and  iniitors."' 

"So  arc  Poturzynski,  Tvorovski  and  Adurovich,"  added 
Pan  Snitko. 

"What  have  yon  to  say  to  this  letter?" 

"Manifest .treason,  there's  no  doubt  about  that/'  said  Pan 
Mushalski.  "He  is  merely  plotting  with  Mellekhovich  to 
bring  over  our  Lipkov  Tartars  to  their  side." 

"By  God,  what  danger  this  command  is  in!"  cried  several 
voices.  "The  Lipkovs  would  give  their  very  souls  for  Mel- 
lekhovich, and,  if  he  bids  it,  they  will  attack  us  at  night." 

"The  blackest  treason  under  the  sun !"  cried  Pan  Deyma. 

"And  it  was  the  Hetman  himself  who  made  a  captain  of 
this  Mellekhovich!"  cried  Pan  Mushalski. 

"Pan  Snitko,"  said  Zagloba,  "what  did  I  say  when  I  first 
saw  Mellekhovich?  Did  not  I  say  that  he  had  the  eyes  of 
a  renegade  and  a  traitor?  Oh,  a  single  glance  was  enough  for 
me.  Anyone  else  he  might  deceive,  but  not  me.  Pan  Snitko, 
repeat  what  I  said,  but  do  not  alter  my  words.  Did  not 
I  proclaim  him  a  traitor?" 

Pan  Snitko  drew  his  legs  under  the  bench  and  thrust  out 
his  head: 

"In  truth  your  lordship's  farsightedness  is  to.  be  marvelled 
at;  truth  is  truth.  I  do  not  recollect  your  lordship  calling 
him  a  traitor.  Your  lordship  only  said  that  he  glared  with 
the  eyes  of  a  wolf." 

"Ha,  ha!  then,  you  hold  that  a  dog  is  a  traitor,  and  a  wolf 
is  not;  that  a  wolf  is  not  in  the  habit  of  biting  the  hand  that 
caresses  and  feeds  him!  Then  a  dog  is  a  traitor!  Perhaps 
you  will  still  stand  up  for  Mellekhovich  and  make  out  that 
all  the  rest  of  us  are  traitors!" 

Thus  confounded,  Pan  Snitko  opened  his  eyes  and  mouth 
wide  and  was  too  surprised  to  say  another  word  for  many 
minutes. 

Meantime,  Pan  Mushalski,  who  was  quick  at  coming  to  a 
decision,  said,  "We  should  first  thank  the  Almighty  for  re- 
vealing such  damnable  plots  and  then  send  for  six  dragoons 
to  put  a  bullet  through  Mellekhovich's  head." 

"And  appoint  another  setnik,"  added  Nyenashinyets. 

"The  treason  of  that  is  so  manifest  that  one  can  not  be 
silent  about  it." 

"First,"  continued  Pan  Michael,  "  we  must  examine  Mel- 
lekhovich and  then  advise  the  Hetman  of  these  plots,  for, 


as  Pan  Bogush  from  Zienbiis  informed  me,  the  Lipkovs  are 
great  favorites  with  the  Crown  Muivhal.'1 

"But,  sir!"  said  Pan  Molovkllo,  turning  to  the  little  knight, 
"a  general  court-marl ial  will  he  more  than  Mcllekhovich  is 
entitled  to,  as  he  has  never  been  an  officer  before." 

"I  know  what  my  powers  arc,"  said  Pan  Michael,  "and 
do  not  need  to  be  reminded  of  them." 

Then  the  others  began  to  exclaim: 

"Let  the  son    ...    be  brought  before  us,  the  traitor!" 

The  loud  'cries  aroused  Zagloba.,  who  had  been  taking  a 
little  doze,  as  he  was  always  doing  now.  He  was  not  long 
in  recalling  the  subject  of  conversation,  and  said: 

"No,  Pan  Snitko,  the  moon  is  obscured  in  your  gem,  but 
your  wit  is  obscured  still  more,  for  no  one  could  discover 
it  with  a  candle.  The  idea  of  saying  that  a  dog,  a  faithful 
dog,  is  a  traitor,  and  a  wolf  not  one!  Allow  me  to  say  you 
are  speaking  out  of  your  boots." 

Pan  Snitko  lifted  his  eyes  to  the  heavens  to  show  how 
he  suffered  innocently,  but  he  did  not  want  to  offend  the 
old  gentleman  by  contradicting  him,  moreover,  Pan  Michael 
ordered  him  to  fetch  Mellekhovich,  and  so  he  hastily  de- 
parted, glad  of  the  excuse  to  escape. 

He  soon  returned  with  the  young  Tartar,  who  as  yet  was 
evidently  ignorant  of  the  capture  of  the  Lipka.  Hia 
swarthy  and  handsome  countenance  had  become  very  pale, 
but  he  had  recovered  his  health,  and  not  even  a  handker- 
chief bound  his  head;  it  was  simply  covered  with  a  velvet 
Crimean  cap. 

Everybody's  eyes  were  fixed  on  him  as  intently  as  on  a 
rainbow.  He  made  a  rather  low  bow  to  the  little  knight 
and  then  a  rather  haughty  one  to  the  rest  of  the  company. 

"Mellekhovich,"  said  Pan  Michael,  sharply,  glancing  at 
the  Tartar,  "are  you  acquainted  with  Colonel  Krychinski?" 

A  sudden  and  menacing  glance  flitted  across  the  coun- 
tenance of  Mellekhovich. 

"I  know  him." 

'•KYud  that,"  said  the  little  knight,  handing  him  the  letter 
found  on  the  Lipka. 

Mellekhovich  began  to  read  it,  but  before  he  had  come  to 
the  end,  his  face  had  recovered  its  tranquility. 

"1  await  your  commands,"  he  said  as  he  returned  the 
letter. 

'•lfi%.w  long  have  you  been  hutching  treason,  and  who  are 
your  confederates  in  Klneptyov?" 


200  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"Then  am  I  accused  of  treason?'7 

"Answer!  Ask  no  questions!"  cried  the  little  knight, 
threateningly. 

"Then  this  is  my  answer.  I  have  not  been  hatching 
treason,  nor  have  I  any  confederates,  or  if  I  have,  they  are 
not  within  your  jurisdiction." 

As  they  heard  this  the  officers  ground  their  teeth  and  im- 
mediately threatening  voices  were  heard: 

'More  humbly,  you  son  of  a  dog,  more  humbly!  Remember 
you  are  in  the  .presence  of  your  superiors." 

At  that,  Mellekhovich  cast  upon  them  a  cold  glance  of 
hatred. 

"I  know  what  is  due  to  my  commander  as  my  superior," 
he  replied  bowing  repeatedly  to  Pan  Michael.  "I  know  that 
you  gentlemen  regard  me  as  your  inferior,  and  your  society 
I  do  not  want.  Your  grace,"  he  continued  (turning  again  to 
the  little  knight),  "asked  me  of  confederates.  I  have  two  in 
this  business,  one  is  Pan  Bogush,  Pod-Stollik1  of  Novgorod, 
and  the  other  is  the  Grand  Hetman  of  the  Commonwealth." 

On  hearing  these  words  they  were  greatly  amazed,  and 
silence  fell  on  them  all  for  a  time;  finally  Pan  Michael 
asked: 

"How  is  that?" 

"In  this  way,,"  Mellekhovich  replied,  "Krychinski,  Mor- 
avski,  Tvorovski,  Aleksandrovich  and  the  others  joined  the 
Horde  and  greatly  injured  the  fatherland,  but  they  did  not 
find  much  fortune  in  the  new  service  they  had  taken.  Per- 
haps too,  their  conscience  pricked  them,  anyhow,  the  name 
traitor  is  bitter  to  them.  The  Hetman  knows  this  well  and 
has  entrusted  Pan  Bogush  and  Pan  Myslishevski  with  the 
task  of  bringing  them  back  beneath  the  banner  of  the  Com- 
monwealth. Pan  Bogush  has  employed  me  on  this  mission 
and  ordered  me  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  Kry- 
chinski. In  my  quarters  there  are  letters  from  Pan  Bogush 
which  will  convince  your  grace  more  than  any  words  of 
mine.' 

"Accompany  Pan  Snitko  to  fetch  those  letters  here  at 
once." 

Mellekhovich  departed. 

.     "Gentlemen,"  hastily  cried  the  little  knight,   "we  have 
greatly  offended  this  soldier  by  our  precipitate  judgment; 

1  Pod  Stollik  under  carver— an  honorary  title  of  former  Polish  nobility. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  2Oi 

for  if  those  letters  are  in  his  possession,  and  I  begin  to  think 
that  they  are,  he  is  telling  the  truth.  Moreover,  not  only 
is  he  a  cavalier,  celebrated  for  his  military  exploits,  but  one 
who  is  anxious  for  the  welfare  of  the  country,  and  on  that 
account  he  should  meet  with  recompense  and  not  unjust 
judgment.  For  God's  sake,  this  must  be  remedied  quickly." 

The  others  all  held  their  peace,  not  knowing  what  to  say, 
and  Pan  Zagloba  shut  his  eyes  and  pretended  to  be  asleep. 

In  the  meantime,  Mellekhovich  returned  and  handed  Bo- 
gush's  letter  to  the  little  knight. 

The  little  knight  read  as  follows: 

"On  every  side  I  hear  that  no  man  is  more  fitted  for  such 
a  service  than  you,  on  account  of  the  marvellous  affection 
in  which  you  are  held  by  these  men.  The  Hetman  is  ready 
to  forgive  them  and  promises  the  pardon  of  the  Common- 
wealth. Communicate  with  Krychinski  as  often  as  possible 
by  means  of  trustworthy  agents  and  promise  to  reward  him. 
Keep  it  strictly  secret  or  otherwise,  as  God  lives,  you  will 
ruin  them  all.  You  may  disclose  the  matter  to  Pan  Volo- 
diyovski,  for  your  commander  may  be  of  great  ^service  to 
you.  Spare  no  labors  or  efforts  in  view  of  the  end  crowning 
the  work,  and  be  sure  that  our  Mother  will  requite  your 
good-will  with  equal  love." 

"And  this  is  my  reward!"  darkly  muttered  the  young  Tar- 
tar. 

"By  the  Great  God!  why  did  you  not  tell  us  of  this?" 
cried  Pan  Michael. 

"I  wanted  to  tell  your  lordship  everything,  but  I  had  no 
opportunity,  as  I  was  ill  after  the  accident.  Before  these 
gentlemen  (here  Mellekhovich  turned  to  the  officers)  I  had 
a  secret  that  I  was  forbidden  to  tell.  Your  lordship  will 
surely  enjoin  that  secrecy  on  them  now,  so  as  not  to  ruin 
those  other  men!' 

"The  proofs  of  your  honesty  are  so  clear  that  a  blind 
man  could  not  deny  them,"  replied  the  little  knight.  "Carry 
on  the  business  with  Krychinski.  In  this  you  will  have  no 
hindrance,  but  help,  in  proof  of  which,  I  give  you  my  hand 
as  an  honorable  knight.  Come  and  join  me  at  supper  this 
evening." 

Mellekhovich  clasped  the  hand  held  out  to  him  and  bowefl 
the  third  time.  From  every  corner  of  the  room  the  other 
officers  advanced  towards  him,  saying: 

"We  did  not  know  you,  but  every  lover  of  virtue  will  not 
withhold  his  hand  from  you  to-day." 


202  PAX    MICHAEL. 

But  the  young  Tartar  suddenly  straightened  himself  and 
held  back  his  head,  like  a  bird  of  prey  "about  to  peck,  and 
exclaimed: 

"I  am  standing  in  the  presence  of  my  superiors." 

He  then  left  the  room. 

After  he  had  gone,  the  clamor  broke  out.  The  officers  said 
to  each  other,  "It  is  no  wonder  that  his  heart  is  still  indig- 
nant at  the  injustice,  but  that  will  disappear  in  time.  \\ V 
must  treat  him  differently.  He  is  of  the  true  knightly  metal. 
The  Hetman  knew  what  he  was  about.  Miracles  are  taking 
place;  well,  well!" 

Pan  Snitko  was  triumphing  in  silence  till  he  could  con- 
tain himself  no  longer,  but,  approaching  Pan  Zagloba,  he 
bent  over,  and  said: 

"Allow  me,  sir,  but  that  wolf  was  no  traitor.    .    . 

"No  traitor!"  retorted  Zagloba,  "he  was  a  traitor,  though 
a  virtuous  one,  since  he  betrayed  not  us,  but  the  Horde. 
.  .  .  Fear  not,  Pan  Snitko;  to-day  I  will  offer  up  prayers 
for  your  wit  and  perchance  the  Holy  Ghost  may  take  com- 
passion on  you." 

Basia  was  greatly  relieved  when  Zagloba  told  her  all 
about  the  business,  for  she  had  a  great  liking  and  pity  for 
Mellekhovich. 

"It  is  necessary,"  she  said,  "that  Michael  and  I  should  in- 
tentionally accompany  him  on  his  first  expedition  of  danger, 
for  by  that  means  we  shall  best  be  able  to  show  our  confidence 
in  him/* 

But  the  little  knight  .stroked  Basia's  rosy  cheeks  and 
replied: 

"Oh  distressed  fly,  I  know  you,  you  don't  care  so  much 
about  Mellekhovich;  what  you  want  is  to  buzz  off  into  the 
steppes  and  take  part  in  a  battle.  But  that  can  never  be." 

Then  he  began  to  kiss  her  mouth  again  and  again. 

"Mulier  insidiosa  est"  (woman  is  wily),  said  Zagloba,  sen- 
ten  tiously. 

Meanwhile  Mellekhovich  was  sitting  in  his  own  room 
whispering  to  the  Lipka.  The  pair  were  sitting  so  close 
together  that  their  heads  almost  touched.  A  lamp  of  sheep's 
tallow  was  burning  on  the  table,  casting  a  yellow  glow  on 
the  face  of  Mellekhovich  which,  notwithstanding  its  beauty, 
was  simply  terrible:  and  in  it  was  depicted  rancor,  cruelty, 
and  wild  joy. 

"Halim,  listen!"  Mellekhovich  whispered. 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


203 


"Effendi!"  responded  the  messenger. 

"Tell  Krychinski  that  he  was  wise,  for  there  was  nothing 
to  hurt  me  in  the  letter;  tell  him  that  he  was  wise.  Let 
him  never  write  more  openly.  .  .  .  Now  they  will  trust 
me  even  more  fully.  .  .  .  Every  one  of  them!  The  very 
iletman,  Bogush,  Myslishevski  and  this  whole  post,  all!  Do 
you  hear?  May  the  pestilence  choke  them." 

"I  hear,  Effendi!" 

"But  I  must  first  go  to  Rashkov,  and  then  I  will  return 
here." 

"Effendi,  young  Novovyeyski  will  recognize  you." 

"No  he  won't.  He  saw  me  at  Kalnik  and  Bratslav  and  did 
not  know  me.  He  will  look  at  me  and  pucker  his  brow,  but 
he  will  not  recognize  me.  He  was  fifteen  years  of  age  when 
I  ran  away.  Since  then,  the  winter  has  whitened  the  steppes 
eight  times.  I  have  altered.  The  old  man  would  know  me, 
but  not  the  young  one.  ...  I  will  let  you  know  from 
Rashkov.  Let  Krychinski  hold  himself  in  readiness  in  the 
vicinity.  You  must  keep  in  touch  with  the  Perkulabs.  More- 
over our  regiment  is  in  Yampol.  I  will  induce  Bogush  to 
get  an  order  for  me  from  the  Hetman  saying  that  I  can 
more  easily  deal  with  Krychinski  from  there.  But  I  must 
return  here.  ...  I  must.  ...  I  don't  know  what 
will  happen,  or  how  I  shall  manage.  ...  I  am  consumed 

with  a  raging  fire.  Sleep  is  banished  from  my  eyes 

If  not  for  her,  I  might  as  well  be  dead." 

"Her  hands  be  blessed." 

Mellekhovic'h's  lips  began  to  quiver,  and  again  leaning 
towards  the  messenger,  he  whispered  feverishly: 

"Halim!  blessings  on  her  hands,  blessings  on  her  head, 
blessings  on  the  earth  she  treads  on.  Do  you  hear,  Halim? 
Tell  them  that  because  of  her,  I  am  well/' 


CHATTER  V. 

In  his  youth  Father  Kaminski  had  been  a  soldier  and  a 
cavalier  of  a  lively  disposition;  at  present  he  was  stationed  at 
Ushytsa  attempting  to  restore  a  parish.  But  as  the  church 
was  in  ruins  and  in  want  of  parishioners,  this  flockless  pastor 
went  to  Khreptyov  and  remained  there  for  several  weeks,  be- 
stowing his  pious  instruction  to  edify  the  knights. 

A  few  evenings  after  Pan  Mushalski's  story,  to  which  he 
listened  attentively,  he  said  to  the  assembly: 

"I  always  enjoy  hearing  stories  in  which  misfortunes  end 
happily,  for  they  teach  us  that  Grod's  guiding  hand  can  bring 
rescue  from  the  enemy  and  can  lead  from  the  Crimea  to  the 
peaceful  roof. 

"Therefore,  once  for  all,  let  each  one  of  you  remember  this: 
With  the  Lord  nothing  is  impossible,  therefore  let  none  of 
you,  even  in  the  utmost  extremity,  fail  to  put  your  trust  in 
His  mercy." 

"This  is  tfie  fact!" 

"It  was  commendable  in  Pan  Mushalski  to  love  a  common 
man  with  fraternal  affection.  The  example  has  been  set  by 
the  Saviour  Himself,  when  he,  though  of  royal  blood,  loved 
common  people,  chose  his  apostles  from  them,  and  gave  them 
his  divine  patronage,  elevating  them  so  highly  that  now  they 
have  seats  in  the  heavenly  senate." 

"Yet  personal  love  is  different  from  universal  love — that 
of  one  nation  to  another.  Our  Lord  and  Redeemer  observed 
both  with  equal  faithfulness.  Where  do  we  find  this  love? 
If  you  look  through  the  world  you  find  such  universal  hatred 
in  all  hearts  that  it  seems  as  though  mankind  followed  the 
commandments  of  the  Devil  and  not  those  of  the  Lord." 

"It  will  be  difficult,  your  grace,"  remarked  Pan  Zagloba, 
"to  convince  us  that  we  have  to  love  Turks,  Tartars,  and 
other  barbarians  whom  even  the  Lord  God  must  Himself 
despise." 

"I  am  not  begging  you  to  do  that,  but  I  do  insist  upon 
this;  that  children  of  the  same  mother  should  love  each  other j 

(204) 


PAN    MICHAEL.  205 

but  how  is  it?  Since  the  time  of  Khmyelnitski,  or  for  thirty 
years,  these  regions  have  been  drenched  with  blood." 

"Whose  fault  is  that?" 

"Whoso  will  first  confess  his  fault,  him  God  will  pardon." 

"Your  grace  is  in  priest's  vestments  to-day;  but  in  your 
youth,  as  we  have  heard,  you  slew  rebels  with  no  better  con- 
science than  the  others." 

"I  slew  them,  for,  as  a  soldier,  it  was  my  duty.  In  that 
there  was  no  sin,  but  my  sin  consisted  in  hating  them  like  the 
plague.  I  had  private  reasons  for  this,  which  I  will  not  speak 
of,  for  the  time  has  long  since  passed  and  the  wound  is  now 
dried  up.  I  am  sorry  'that  I  overstepped  my  duty.  I  had  a 
hundred  men  from  the  squadron  of  Pan  Nyevodovski  under 
my  command;  and,  acting  independently  with  my  force,  I 
often  burned,  massacred,  and  hanged.  ,  .  .  Gentlemen,  you 
know  what  times  those  were.  Called  in  by  Khmyelnitski,  the 
Tartars  burned  and  slaughtered;  and  we  did  the  same.  We 
burned  and  slaughtered;  the  Cossacks,  committing  worse 
atrocities  than  ours  or  the  Tartar's,  left  nothing  in  their 
trail  save  land  and  water.  Nothing  is  more  terrible  than 
civil  war.  .  .  Such  times  they  were,  no  one  can  gainsay  it; 
enough  that  we  and  they  fought  more  like  mad  dogs  than 
human  beings.  .  .  Once  news  came  to  our  quarters  that 
the  rabble  had  laid  siege  to  Pan  Busyetski  in  his  fortalice.  I 
was  despatched  with  my  command  to  the  rescue.  I  arrived 
too  late;  the  fortalice  was  razed  to  the  ground.  I  instantly 
fell  upon  the  drunken  peasants  and  mowed  them  down;  only 
a  few  escaped  by  hiding  in  the  wheat.  I  commanded  that 
these  be  taken  alive  and  hanged  as  an  example.  But  where? 
This  was  easier  said  than  done;  there  was  not  a  single  tree 
left  standing  in  the  village;  even  the  pear  trees  that  bordered 
the  fields  were  destroyed.  There  was  not  time  to  erect 
gibbets;  and  as  this  land  was  among  the  steppes  there  was 
not  a  single  forest.  What  was  to  be  done?  I  marched  on 
with  my  prisoners.  Perhaps,  sooner  or  later  I  shall  come 
across  a  forked  young  oak,  I  thought.  I  went  one  mile,  two 
miles, — steppe  after  steppe;  you  could  have  rolled  a  ball  over 
them.  Presently,  towards  evening,  we  found  traces  of  a  vil- 
lage. I  looked  about  me,  here  and  there  were  piles  of  cinders 
and  grey  ashes,  and  that  was  all!  On  the  side  of  a  small  hill 
there  stood  a  great  oaken  cross,  which  seamed  to  be  new, 
for  the  wood  had  not  turned  dark,  and  it  therefore  shone  in 
the  twilight  like  a  fire.  Upon  it  there  was  a  tin  Christ,  cut 


205  PAX    MICHAEL. 

and  painted  in  such  a  life-like  manner  that  you  would  have 
thought  it  a  real  statue  until  you  viewed  it  from  the  side  and 
sawr  the  sheet  of  tin;  the  face  was  as  if  still  alive,  and  pale 
with  agony;  on  the  head  was  a  crown  of  thorns;  the  eyes  were 
raised  upwards  with  a  wonderful  expression  of  terrible  sorrow 
and  sadness.  When  I  saw  that  cross,  the  thought  flashed 
through  my  mind:  'There  is  your  tree;  you  will  find  none 
other;'  but  instantly  I  became  frightened.  In  the  name  of 
the  Father,  and  of  the  Son!  I  will  not  hang  them  on  the 
cross.  But,  thinking  to  bring  comfort  to  the  eyes  of  Christ 
if  I  gave  command  in  His  presence  to  kill  those  who  had 
spilled  so  much  guiltless  blood,  I  said:  '0  dear  Lord,  let  it 
seem  to  Thee  that  these  murderers  are  the  Jews  who  nailed 
Thee  to  the  cross,  for  these  are  no  better  than  those.  I  then 
ordered  my  men  to  drag  the  captives,  one  by  one,  to  the 
mound  beneath  the  cross  and  cut  them  down.  There  were 
among  them  old  gray-haired  peasants  and  youths.  The  first 
one  who  was  brought  said:  'By  the  Passion  of  our  Lord,  by 
that  Christ,  have  mercy  upon  me,  sir!'  and  my  answer  was: 
'Off  with  his  head!'  A  dragoon  cut  and  slashed.  .  .  .  An- 
other was  brought;  the  same  thing  occurred:  'By  that  merci- 
ful Christ  have  pity  upon  me!'  And  my  answer  was  again: 
'Off  with  his  head !'  The  same  thing  happened  with  the  third, 
the  fourth,  and  the  fifth;  there  were  fourteen  altogether,  and 
every  one  of  them  implored  me,  by  Christ.  .  .  Twilight 
had  faded  when  we  ended.  I  ordered  them  to  be  placed  in 
a  circle  around  the  foot  of  the  cross.  .  .  Fool  that  I  was  in 
thinking  to  please  the  only  Son  with  this  spectacle!  They 
moved  for  some  time, — one  with  his  hands,  another  with  his 
feet,  while  at  times  another  threw  himself  up  like  a  fish  just 
pulled  out  of  water;  but  this  did  not  last  long;  their  bodies 
soon  lost  all  power  and  silently  they  lay  surrounding  the  cross 
like  a  chaplet.  .  .  '' 

As  the  darkness  had  now  fallen,  I  decided  to  remain,  in 
this  spot  all  night,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  there  were 
no  materials  for  a  fire.  God  granted  us  a  warm  day,  and  my 
soldiers  lay  down  on  their  horse-blankets;  but  I  went  to  the 
cross  to  repeat  the  usual  'Pater'  at  the  feet  of  Christ  and 
commit  myself  to  His  mercy.  I  thought  my  prayer  would  be 
more  graciously  accepted  because  I  had  spent  the  day  in  labor 
and  such  deeds,  which  I  counted  to  myself  as  a  service. 

"Sometimes  a  weary  soldier  will  fall  asleep  at  his  evening 
prayers.  This  happened  to  me,  The  dragoons,  who  saw  me 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


207 


kneeling  with  my  head  resting  on  the  cross,  believed  that  I 
was  deep  in  pious  meditation,  and  would  not  disturb  me;  my 
eyes  closed  instantly;  and  that  cross  inspired  a  marvellous 
dream.  I  will  not  say  that  I  had  a  vision  for  I  was  not,  and 
am  not,  worthy  of  that;  but,  although  I  was  fast  asleep,  i  saw 
the  whole  Passion  of  our  Lord  as  plainly  as  if  I  had  been 
awake.  .  .  While  witnessing  the  sufferings  of  the  innocent 
Lamb,  my  heart  broke,  tears  fell  from  my  eyes,  and  1  was 
filled  with  boundless  pity.  '0  Lord/  I  said,  'I  have  a  hand- 
ful of  good  men.  Wilt  Thou  see  what  our  cavalry  can  do? 
Only  nod  thy  head  and  in  one  moment  my  sabres  shall  de- 
spatch such  sons,  Thy  executioners!'  Just  as  I  said  this, 
everything  vanished;  there  remained  only  the  cross  and  Christ 
on  it  weeping  tears  of  blood.  .  .  Then,  sobbing,  I  embraced 
the  foot  of  the  holy  cross.  How  long  I  wept  I  know  not;  but, 
after  I  had  become  calmer,  I  again  exclaimed:  '0  Lord,  0 
Lord!  why  didst  thou  give  Thy  holy  teaching  to  hardened 
Jews?  Hadst  Thou  come  from  Palestine  to  our  Common- 
wealth, surely  we  would  not  have  nailed  Thee  to  the  cross, 
but  have  received  Thee  royally,  given  Thee  precious  gifts, 
and  ennobled  Thee  for  the  aggrandisement  Thy  divine  glory. 
Why  dids't  Thou  not  do  this,  0  Lord?' " 

"Then  I  lifted  my  eyes, — (you  remember,  gentlemen,  this 
was  all  a  dream,) — and  what  do  I  behold?  Our  Lord  looks 
sternly  upon  me;  He  frowns,  and  then  says  suddenly  and 
loudly:  'Your  nobility  is  cheap;  any  mean  fellow  may  buy  it 
during  war,  but  no  more  of  this!  You  and  the  rabble  are 
worthy  of  each  other;  and  each  of  you  is  worse  than  the  Jews, 
for  you  nail  me  here  on  the  cross  every  day.  .  .  Have  I  not 
commanded  love,  even  for  enemies,  and  forgiveness  of  sins? 
But  you  tear  out  each  other's  entrails  like  wild  beasts.  I, 
witnessing  this,  suffer  unendurable  agony.  And  you,  who 
would  release  me  from  it  and  bring  me  to  the  Commonwealth, 
what  have  you  done?  See,  you  have  bespattered  the  foot  of 
my  cross  with  blood  and  placed  corpses  around  it;  and  among 
these  some  are  innocent  youths,  or  blinded  men  who  have 
no  discernment  whatever,  followed  the  others  like  silly  sheep. 
Did  you  show  mercy  to  them;  did  you  judge  them  before 
slaughter?  No!  You  ordered  them  to  be  slain  for  my  sake, 
and  thought  you  would  bring  comfort  to  me.  In  truth,  it  is 
one  thing  to  reprove  and  punish,  as  a  father  punishes  his  son, 
or  as  an  elder  brother  a  younger  brother,  and  another  thing 
to  show  vengeance  and  cruelty  without  judgment  or  measure. 


2o8  P&X    MICHAEL. 

It  has  come  to  that,  that  this  land  is  so  terrible  that  wolves 
are  more  merciful  than  men;  the  grass  sweats  bloody  dew;  the 
storms  howl,  and  do  not  blow;  the  rivers  flow  with  tears;  and 
people  imploringly  hold  out  their  hands  to  death,  crying,  'Our 
refuge!'  .  .  " 

"  '0  Lord/  I  cried,  'are  these  men  better  than  we?  Which 
of  us  has  committed  the  greatest  cruelty?  Who  brought  the 
Pagan  here?' 

"  'Love  them  while  you  chastise  them/  said  the  Lord,  'and 
then  the  cataract  will  fall  from  their  eyes,  hardness  will  leave 
their  hearts,  and  my  mercy  will  be  upon  you.  If  you  act 
otherwise,  the  Tartars  will  come  and  bind  you  and  them,  and 
compel  you  to  serve  the  enemy  in  suffering,  in  tears,  and  in 
contempt,  until  the  time  comes  when  you  do  love  each  other. 
But  if  3^ou  persist  in  boundless  hatred,  neither  of  you  will 
receive  mercy,  and  for  ages  upon  ages  will  the  Pagan  possess 
this  land.' 

"On  hearing  such  commandments,  I  became  terrified,  and 
for  a  long  time  I  was  unable  to  speak,  finally,  falling  on  my 
face,  I  asked: 

"  '0  Lord,  what  must  I  do  to  wash  away  my  sins?7 

"The  Lord  answered: 

"  'Go,  repeat  my  commandment;  proclaim  love.' 

"After  this  reply,  my  dream  ended. 

"As  the  summer  night  is  short,  I  woke  up  at  dawn  all  wet 
with  the  dew.  I  looked  around  me;  the  heads  were  lying  as 
a  garland  around  the  cross,  but  they  had  already  became  blue; 
a  miracle  had  happened,  yesterday  I  had  gloated  over  that 
sight,  and  to-day  I  was  seized  with  horror,  especially  at  the 
aspect  of  one  youth  about  seventeen  years  of  age,  of  exceeding 
beauty.  I  ordered  the  soldiers  to  give  the  bodies  decent  burial 
under  that  cross,  and  from  that  day  forth,  I  was  a  different 
man. 

"At  first  I  said  to  myself,  that  the  dream  was  an  illusion; 
but  still  it  haunted  my  mind  and  seemed  to  take  possession 
of  my  whole  being.  I  did  not  dare  to  imagine  that  the  Lord 
himself  had  spoken  to  me,  for,  as  I  have  already  said,  I  did 
not  feel  myself  worthy  of  that;  but  perhaps  conscience,  silent 
in 'times  of  war,  lurking  like  a  Tartar  in  the  grass,  suddenly 
spoke  forth  and  proclaimed  the  will  of  God.  I  wont  to  con- 
fession and  the  priest  confirmed  this  idea.  He  said,  '.It  is  the 
manifest  will  and  premonition  of  the  Lord,  listen  to  it,  or  it 
will  not  be  well  with  thec.' 


PAN   MICHAEL.  209 

"Thenceforth,  I  began  to  preach  love. 

"But  the  companions  and  officers  laughed  in  my  face. 
'What?'  they  cried,  'is  this  a  priest  come  to  teach  us?  Is  it 
a  small  outrage  that  these  dog  brothers  have  wrought  against 
God,  are  the  churches  they  have  burned  few,  are  the  crosses 
that  they  have  desecrated  insignificant  in  number?  Are  we 
to  love  them  for  all  this?'  In  a  word  nobody  would  listen 
to  me." 

"After  Berestechka,  I  assumed  this  religious  garb  so  as  to 
proclaim  the  word  and  will  of  God  with  greater  dignity.  I 
have  done  this  without  ceasing  for  more  than  twenty  years. 
Already  my  hair  has  grown  wjiite.  .  .  God  is  merciful;  He 
will  not  punish  me  because,  so  far,  my  voice  is  merely  a  voice 
crying  in  the  wilderness." 

"Gentlemen,  love  your  enemies,  punish  them  like  a  father 
and  reprove  them  like  an  elder  brother,  otherwise,  woe  to  them 
and  woe  to  you,  and  woe  to  the  whole  Commonwealth." 

"Look  about  you;  what  is  the  result  of  this  war  and  hatred 
of  brother  for  brother?  This  country  has  become  a  desert: 
in  Ushytsa  I  have  graves  instead  of  parishioners;  churches, 
towns,  and  villages  are  all  in  ruins;  the  power  of  the  infidel  is 
rising  and  overwhelming  us  like  a  sea  which  is  about  to  swal- 
low up  even  thee,  Rock  of  Kamenets." 

Pan  Nyenashinyets  listened  to  the  words  of  the  priest  with 
great  emotion,  till  his  forehead  was  beaded  with  sweat,  then 
amid  universal  silence,  he  spoke  as  follows: 

"That  the  Cossacks  have  worthy  men  among  them  is  proved 
by  the  presence  among  us  of  Pan  Motovidlo,  whom  we  all 
love  and  respect.  But  as  for  that  universal  love,  of  which 
priest  Kaminski  has  spoken  so  eloquently,  I  confess  that  so 
far  I  have  lived  in  great  sin,  for  that  love  has  not  been  in  me, 
nor  have  I  striven  to  gain  it.  Now,  however,  his  Reverence 
has  somewhat  opened  my  eyes.  Without  God's  special  grace, 
such  love  will  never  dwell  in  my  heart,  for  there  I  harbor  the 
memory  of  a  cruel  wrong  of  which  I  will  tell  you  in  a  few 
words." 

"Let  us  have  something  warm  to  drink,"  cried  Zagloba. 

"Put  more  fire  to  the  yoke-elm,"  said  Basia  to  the  ser- 
vants. 

And  in  a  few  moments  the  large  room  again  glowed  with 

the  blaze,  and  a  flagon  of  heated  beer  was  placed  before  each 

knight  by  an  attendant.     They  all  gladly  moistened  their 

moustaches  in  it,  and  when   they   had   taken  a  couple  of 

14 


2It  PAN    MICHAEL. 

draughts,  Pan  Nyenashinyets  again  began  in  tones  that  sound- 
ed like  the  rumbling  of  a  wagon: 

"On  her  dying  bed,  my  mother  committed  my  sister  to  my 
care;  her  name  was  Halshka.1  I  had  neither  wife  nor  child, 
and  so  I  loved  her  as  the  apple  of  my  eye.  She  was  twenty 
years  younger  than  I,  and  I  carried  her  about  in  my  arms.  I 
regarded  her  exactly  as  if  she  were  my  own  child.  Some  vears 
afterwards,  I  took  the  field  and  the  horde  captured  her.  When 
I  returned,  I  beat  my  head  against  the  wall.  All  my  posses- 
sions had  disappeared  during  the  incursion;  but  I  sold  all  I 
had  left,  strapped  my  last  saddle  on  a  horse,  and  went  away 
with  some  Armenians  to  ransom  my  sister.  I  discovered  her 
in  Bakhche-Serai.  She  was  attached  to  the  harem,  but  not  in 
it,  for  as  yet  she  was  only  twelve  years  old.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  hour  when  I  found  tbee,  0  Halshka!  How  she  did 
cling  about  my  neck;  how  she  did  kiss  me  on  the  eyes.  But 
what  then!  The  money  that  I  had  brought  with  me  proved 
to  be  insufficient.  She  was  a  beautiful  girl.  Yehu  Aga,  who 
had  carried  her  off,  wanted  three  times  as  much  for  her.  I 
offered  to  throw  myself  in,  but  it  would  not  do.  She  was 
bought  in  the  open  market  before  my  very  eyes  by  Tukhay 
Bey,  that  notorious  foe  of  ours,  who  wanted  to  keep  her  in 
his  harem  three  years,  and  then  marry  her.  I  returned  home 
tearing  my  hair.  On  the  way  I  discovered  that,  in  a  Tartar 
village  by  the  sea,  one  of  Tukhay  Bey's  wives  was  living  with 
his  favorite  son,  Azya.  Tukhay  Bey  had  wives  in  every  town 
and  in  many  villages,  so  that  wherever  he  went,  he  would 
have  a  roof  of  his  own,  under  which  he  might  rest.  Hearing 
of  this  son,  I  thought  that  God  had  provided  me  with  a  last 
means  of  saving  Halshka.  I  immediately  determined  to  carry 
off  that  son  and  exchange  him  for  my  sister,  but  I  could  not 
do  this  without  help.  It  was  necessary  to  gather  together  a 
company  in  the  Ukraine,  or  in  the  Wild  Fields,  which  was 
far  from  easy;  in  the  first  place  because  Tukhay  Bey's  name 
was  dreaded  throughout  Kussia.  and  in  the  second  place,  be- 
cause he  was  in  alliance  with  the  Cossacks  against  us.  But 
more  than  one  brave  Cossack  was  wandering  about  the  steppes, 
men  who  were  out  for  their  own  profit  and  were  willing  to 
go  anywhere  for  booty.  I  gathered  a.  famous  band  of  these 
together.  No  words  can  express  what  we  endured  before  our 
boats  arrived  at  the  coast,  for  we  had  to  hide  from  the  Cos- 

i  Helena. 


PA\    MH'l'IAKL.  211 

sack  leaders.  But  God  helped  us.  I  captured  Azya  and  a 
Magnificent  booty  with  him.  We  got  back  safely  to  the  Wild 
Fields.  From  there,  I  wanted  to  go  to  Kamenets  and  enter 
into  negotiations  with  merchants  of  that  place. 

"I  shared  out  the  whole  plunder  among  the  Cossacks,  only 
reserving  Tukhay  Bey's  pup  for  myself;  and,  because  I  had 
been  so  liberal  with  them,  shared  so  many  dangers,  endured 
hunger,  and  risked  my  life  with  them,  I  thought  that  every 
one  of  them  would  go  through  the  fire  for  me,  and  that  1  had 
won  their  hearts  for  all  time." 

"I  had  reason  to  repent  bitterly  of  my  confidence,  and  that 
soon. 

"It  had  never  entered  my  head  that  they  would  turn  and 
tear  to  pieces  their  own  Ataman  and  then  share  his  booty 
among  themselves.  I  forgot  that  among  those  men  there  is 
neither  faith,  nor  virtue,  nor  gratitude,  nor  conscience.  .  . 
Not  far  from  Kamenets  the  hope  of  a  great  ransom  for  Azya 
tempted  my  followers.  They  fell  on  me  in  the  night  like 
wolves,  strangled  me  with  a  rope,  stabbed  me  with  knives,  and 
finally,  thinking  me  dead,  cast  me  aside  in  the  wilderness  and 
fled  with  the  boy. 

"(jjod  sent  me  rescue  and  restored  me  to  health;  but  my 
Halshka  was  lost  forever.  Perhaps  she  is  still  living  there 
somewhere;  perhaps  on  Tukhay  Bey's  death,  she  was  taken 
by  another  Infidel;  'perhaps  she  has  accepted  the  faith  of  Mo- 
hammed; perhaps  she  has  forgotten  her  brother;  perhaps  even 
some  day  her  son  may  shed  my  blood.  .  .  That  is  my  tale." 

Here  Pan  Nyenashinyets  ceased  and  gazed  gloomily  on  the 
ground. 

"What  rivers  of  our  blood  and  tears  have  flowed  for  this 
land!"  cried  Mushalski. 

"Thou  shalt  love  thine  enemies,"  ejaculated  Father  Kamin- 
ski. 

"And  when  you  were  restored  to  health,  didn't  you  hunt 
for  that  pup?"  asked  Zagloba. 

"I  afterwards  learned  that  another  band  fell  on  those  who 
robbed  me,"  answered  Pan  Nyenashinyets,  "and  cut  them 
to  pieces,  and  the  child  must  have  been  captured  with  the 
other  spoil.  I  hunted  everywhere,  but  he  had  disappeared  like 
a  stone  cast  into  the  water." 

"Perhaps  you  met  him  afterwards  and  could  not  recognize 
him!"  Basia  suggested. 

"I  don't  know  if  the  child  was  even  three  years  of  age.    I 


2I2  PI  AT    MICHAEL. 

knew  nothing  except  that  his  name  was  Azya.  But  I  could 
have  identified  him,  because  on  each  side  of  his  breast  he  had 
a  fish  tattooed  in  blue." 

Suddenly  Mellekhovich,  who  had  hitherto  been  sitting  in 
silence,  cried  in  peculiar  accents  from  his  corner  of  the  room: 

"You  could  not  have  told  him  by  the  fish,  because  many 
Tartars  have  the  same  sign,  particularly  those  who  dwell  near 
the  water." 

"That's  not  true,"  cried  the  rugged  Pan  Hromyka,  for  after 
Berestechka  I  examined  the  corpse  of  Tukhay  Bey,  for  it  was 
left  on  the  field,  and  I  know  that  he  had  a  fish  on  his  breast, 
and  the  other  dead  Tartars  all  had  different  marks." 

"But  I  tell  you,  sir,  that  many  bear  fish." 

"True,  but  they  are  all  of  the  Tukhay  Bey  breed." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
Pan  Lelchyts,  whom  Pan  Michael  had  sent  out  on  a  scouting 
expedition  that  morning,  and  who  had  just  returned. 

"Colonel,"  he  said,  as  he  entered,  "there  is  some  kind  of  a 
detachment  advancing-  in  this  direction  from  Sirotski  Brod 
on  the  Moldavian  side." 

"What  sort  of  people  are  they?"  asked  Pan  Michael. 

"Bandits.  A  few  of  them  are  Wallachians,  and  a,  few  Hun- 
garians, most  of  them  are  stragglers  from  the  Horde,  and  there 
are  about  two  hundred  in  all." 

"They  must  be  the  same  of  whom  I  have  heard  making  a 
raid  on  the- Moldavian  side,"  said  Pan  Michael.  The  Perkulab 
must  have  made  it  warm  for  them  there,  so  they  are  escaping 
in  this  direction;  but  there  are  about  two  hundred  of  the 
Horde  alone.  They  will  cross  at  night,  and  we  will  intercept 
them  at  dawn.  Motovidlo  and  Mellekhovich  will  be  ready  at 
midnight.  Drive  a,  small  herd  of  cattle  to  attract  them  and 
now  to  your  quarters." 

The  soldie*  then  separated,  but  they  had  not  all  left  the 
room  before  Basia  ran  up  to  her  husband,  threw  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  began  to  whisper  in  his  ear.  He  laughed 
and  shook  his  head  repeatedly,  but  evidently  she  was  insisting, 
as  she  encircled  his  neck  more  coaxingly.  When  Zagloba  saw 
this,  he  cried: 

"Let  her  have  this  pleasure  for  once;  if  you  will.  I,  the 
old  man,  will  jog  along  with  you," 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Detached  bands  who  occupied  themselves  with  robbery 
on  both  sides  of  the  Dniester  included  men  of  all  nation- 
alities from  the  border  countries.  Fugitive  Tartars  from 
the  Dobrudja  and  Byalogrod  Hordes,  still  more  savage  and 
courageous  than  their  brethern  of  the  Crimea,  always  formed 
the  majority;  neither  were  there  wanting  Wallachians,  Cos- 
sacks, Hungarians,  and  Polish  servants,  who  had  escaped 
from  military  posts  near  the  banks  of  the  Dniester.  They 
alternately  ravaged  the  Polish  and  the  Wallachian  side,  con- 
stantly crossing  the  boundary  river,  according  to  whether 
they  were  hunted  by  the  forces  of  the  Perkulav  or  by  the 
Commonwealth  commanders.  They  had  almost  inaccessible 
lurking  places  in  the  ravines,  forests,  and  caves.  The  spoil 
they  chiefly  sought  was  the  herds  of  horses  and  cattle,  belong- 
ing to  the  military  posts;  these  herds  remained  on  the  steppes 
even  through  the  winter,  finding  their  sustenance  under  the 
snow.  But  in  addition  the  robbers  attacked  villages,  farms, 
hamlets,  and  small  military  detachments,  Polish  and  even 
Turkish  merchants  and  agents  who  were  going  to  the  Crimea 
with  ransom.  These  bands  had  their  own  leaders  and  or- 
ganization, and  seldom  combined  their  forces. 

Indeed  it  frequently  happened  that  the  larger  bands  de- 
stroyed the  smaller  ones.  They  had  greatly  multiplied  all 
through  the  Russian  dominions,  especially  sinee  the  Cos- 
sack wars,  when  all  kinds  of  order  and  safety  disappeared. 
The  bands  on  the  Dniester  joined  by  stragglers  from  the 
Horde,  were  particularly  formidable.  Some  of  them  even 
numbered  as  many  as  five  hundred.  Their  chiefs  assumed 
the  title  of  Bey.  They  ravaged  the  country  in  the  charac- 
teristic manner  of  the  Tartar,  and  more  than  once  the  com- 
manders themselves  could  not  tell  whether  they  were  dealing 
with  bandits  or  with  advanced  chambuls  of  the  entire  Horde. 
These  bodies  could  not  make  a  stand  in  the  open  field  against 
mounted  troops,  especially  the  cavalry  of  the  Commonwealth, 
but,  when  they  were  caught  in  a  trap,  they  fought  with  des- 

(213) 


214  PAN 

peration,  being  perfectly  well  aware  that  if  they  were  cap- 
tured, the  gibbet  and  cord  was  their  lot.  They  were  vari- 
ously armed.  They  were  short  of  bows  and  muskets,  but 
these  were  of  little  use  in  their  night  assaults.  The  ma- 
jority were  armed  with  daggers  and  Turkish  yataghans, 
loaded  sticks,  Tartar  swords,  and  horse- jaws  fastened  to  oak 
limbs  with,  thongs.  The  latter  weapon,  in  a  skilful  hand,  did 
terrible  execution,  for  it  could  shatter  any  sword.  Some  had 
long  pitchforks  with  sharp  iron  points,  and  some  had  spears, 
which  on  emergency  they  employed  against  the  cavalry. 

The  band  at  Sirotski  Brod  must  have  been  in  extremes 
on  the  Moldavian  side,  since  it  had  dared  to  approach  the 
Khreptyov  post,  notwithstanding  the  terror  inspired  by  the 
very  name  of  Pan  Michael  among  the  bandits  on  both  sides 
of  the  border.  In  fact,  another  scout  brought  the  news  that 
it  comprised  more  than  four  hundred  men,  led  by  Azba  Bey, 
a  celebrated  raider,  who,  for  many  years  had  terrorized  the 
Polish  and  Moldavian  sides  of  the  river. 

Pan  Michael  was  deligted  when  he  heard  with  whom  he  had 
to  deal,  and  at  once  issued  the  necessary  orders.  In  addi- 
tion to  Mellekhovich  and  Pan  Motovidlo,  the  squadron  *of 
the  General  of  Podolia  was  employed,  as  well  as  that  of  the 
sub-governor  of  Pshemysl.  They  started  in  the  night,  la- 
king  different  routes,  for,  like  fishers  who  cast  their  nets  in 
winter  over  a  considerable  expanse,  so  as  to  come  together 
afterwards  at  one  outlet  in  the  ice,  so  these  detachments, 
taking  a  wide  circuit,  were  to  meet  at  Sirotski  Brod  about 
daybreak. 

With  a  beating  heart,  Basia  assisted  at  the  departure  of 
the  troops,  as  this  was  her  first  experience  of  war,  and  her 
spirits  rose  at  the  sight  of  these  old  wolves  of  the  steppes. 
They  set  out  so  noiselessly,  that,  in  the  fortalice  itself,  they 
could  scarcely  be  heard.  The  bits  did  not  jingle,  nor  did 
stirrup  strike  against  stirrup,  nor  sabre  against  sabre,  nor 
rHd  a  horse  neigh.  It  was  'a  calm  and  unusually  luminous 
night.  The  full  moon  brightly  illuminated  the  hills  of  the 
post  and  the  steppes,  which  were  rolling  ground;  and  yet, 
scarcely  had  a  company  passed  the  stockade,  the  sabres  glint- 
ing silverly  in  the  moonlight,  when  it  disappeared  like  a 
covey  of  partridges  among  waving  grass.  There  was  some- 
thing mysterious  in  this  march.  To  Basia  they  looked  like 
sportsmen  going  out  to  the  same  hunt,  which  was  to  begin 
at  dawn,  and  for  that  reason  were  moving  with  care  and  quiet, 


PAN   MICHAEL.  315 

so  as  not  to  start  the  game  too  soon.  She  was  therefore  ex- 
ceedingly anxious  to  share  in  the  sport. 

Pan  Michael  made  no  opposition,  because  Zagloba  had 
induced  him  to  give  his  consent.  Moreover,  he  knew  he 
would  have  to  gratify  Basia's  desire  some  day  or  other,  and 
so  he  preferred  to  do  it  at  once,  particularly  as  these  raiders 
were  not  accustomed  to  bows  and  guns. 

However,  they  did  not  start  for  three  hours  after  the  first 
squadron  had  gone,  because  Pan  Michael  had  made  the  fol- 
lowing arrangements.  Pan  Mushalski,  with  twenty  of 
Linkhauz's  dragoons  and  a  sargeant,  all  Mazovians  and  picked 
men,  accompanied  them,  and  behind  these  swords  the  col- 
onel's charming  wife  was  as  safe  as  in  her  own  room  at  home. 

As  she  had  to  stride  a  man's  saddle  she  was  dressed  ac- 
cordingly; she  wore  a  pair  of  pearl  velvet  trousers,  very 
baggy  and  looking  like  a  petticoat,  stuffed  into  little  yellow 
saffian  boots;  a  little  gray  overcoat  lined  with  white  Crimean 
sheep-skin,  and  ornamented  with  embroidery  down  the  seams; 
she  carried  a  beautifully-worked  silver  ammunition  pouch 
and  a  light  Turkish  sabre  in  a  silken  belt,  with  pistols  in  her 
holsters.  On  her  head  was  a  cap  covered  with  Venetian 
velvet,  ornamented  with  a  heron's  plume  and  bordered  with 
lynx-skin;  under  the  cap  peeped  out  a  bright,  rosy,  almost 
infantile  face,  and  two  inquisitive  eyes  that  glowed  like 
coals. 

Thus  armed,  and  bestriding  a  chestnut  pony,  gontle  and 
swift  as  a  deer,  she  looked  like  a  Hetman's  child,  who  under 
the  care  of  seasoned  warriors,  was  about  to  take  a  first  lesson. 
Moreover,  the  figure  she  cut  surprised  them  all.  Pan  Za- 
globa and  Pan  Mushalski  nudged  each  other  with  their  el- 
bows and  kept  on  kissing  their  hands  as  a  mark  of  extreme 
homage  to  Basia;  they  both  joined  Pan  Michael  in  allaying 
her  anxiety  about  their  late  departure. 

"You  have  no  knowledge  of  war,"  said  the  little  knight. 
"and  you  reproach  us  with  wanting  to  let  you  arrive  on  the 
field  only  when  the  battle  is  over.  Some  of  the  troops  go 
straight  there,  others  have  to  make  a  detour,  so  as  1^  sur- 
round them,  and  then  they  will  silently  join  the  others,  catch- 
ing the  enemy  in  a  trap.  We  shall  get  there  in  plenty  of  time 
and  nothing  will  happen  until  we  arrive,  for  the  time  has 
been  carefully  calculated." 

"Suppose  the  foe  takes  alarm  and  escapes  between  the 
various  squadrons?" 


2i6  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"He  is  wary  and  watchful,  but  his  kind  of  warfare  is  noth- 
ing new  to  us." 

"Trust  to  Michael/'  exclaimed  Zagloba,  "no  one  has  had 
more  experience  than  he.  Their  evil  destiny  sent  those  bul- 
lock-drivers in  our  direction." 

"I  was  quite  young  at  Lubni,"  said  Pan  Michael,  "and  even 
then  they  entrusted  me  with  this  kind  of  work.  On  this  oc- 
casion, to  let  you  see  the  affair,  I  have  been  unusually  care- 
ful in  my  dispositions.  The  various  bodies  will  unite  at 
the  same  moment  in  the  presence  of  the  foe.  They  will  raise 
a  shout  in  unison,  and  together  they  will  charge  the  ban- 
dits, as  if  at  the  crack  of  the  same  whip." 

"Oh,  oh!"  piped  Basia  delightedly;  and,  standing  up 
in  her  stirrups,  she  threw  her  arm  around  the  little  knight's 
neck.  "And  may  I  charge  too?  Eh,  Michael,  dear,  eh?" 
she  cried,  her  eyes  sparkling. 

"I  will  not  allow  you  to  go  into  the  melee,  for  an  acci- 
dent might  easily  happen  in  the  press,  not  to  speak  of  the 
fact  that  your  horse  might  stumble;  but  I  have  given  orders 
to  loosen  the  reins  immediately  they  have  scattered  the 
band  that  is  driven  against  us,  and  then  you  may  cut  down 
a  man  or  two,  only  you  must  always  attack  on  the  left,  be- 
cause then  it  will  not  be  easy  for  the  fugitive  to  strike  at 
you  across  his  horse,  while  you  will  have  him  in  your  power." 

"Ho,  ho!"  cried  Basia,  "never  fear,  you,  yourself,  said  that 
I  can  use  the  sabre  far  better  than  Uncle  Makovyetski;  don't 
try  to  teach  me!" 

"Remember  to  keep  a  firm  hold  on  the  bridle,"  said  Za- 
globa.  "They  have  tricks  of  their  own,  and  when  you  are 
pursuing,  perhaps  the  fugitive  may  suddenly  wheel  his  horse 
and  halt,  and  strike  you  as  you  pass  by.  An  experienced  sol- 
dier never  lets  out  his  horse  too  much,  but  always  keeps  him 
under  control." 

"And  never  raise  your  sabre  too  high,  for  fear  of  ex- 
'  posing  yourself  to  a  thrust,"  said  Pan  Mushalski. 

"I  shall  be  near  to  guard  against  any  accident,"  said  the 
little  knight.  "You  see,  in  a  battle,  the  whole  trouble  is 
that  you  have  everything  to  remember  at  once;  the  horse, 
the  foe,  the  rein,  the  sabre,  the  stroke,  and  the  thrust,  all 
at  once.  To  the  veteran,  it  comes  naturally,  but  at  first  the 
very  best  fencers  often  make  a  mess  of  it,  and  any  ordinary 
soldier,  simply  by  being  used  to  it,  can  unhorse  a  beginner 
who  has  much  more  skill  than  himself.  ...  So  I  will 
stay  beside  you," 


PAN    MICHAEL.  217 

"But  do  not  help  me,  and  order  all  the  men  not  to  help  me, 
except  at  need." 

"Well,  well!  we  will  see  what  your  courage  is  when  put 
to  the  test/'  laughed  the  little  knight. 

"And  whether  you  won't  seize  one  of  us  by  the  coat-tails/' 
concluded  Zagloba. 

"We  shall  see/'  cried  Basia  indignantly. 

In  this  kind  of  conversation  they  arrived  at  a  place  covered 
with  thickets.  It  was  now  near  dawn,  but  it  had  grown 
darker,  as  the  moon  had  set.  A  light  mist  had  begun  to 
rise  from  the  earth,  obscuring  distant  objects.  In  the  mist 
and  darkness  the  distant  indistinct  clumps  assumed  the 
shape  of  living  beings  and  excited  Basra's  imagination.  More 
than  once  she  thought  that  she  clearly  distinguished  men 
and  horses. 

"What  is  that,  Michael?'  'she  whispered,  as  she  pointed 
with  her  finger. 

"Nothing!   growths!" 

"I  thought  it  was  horsemen.  Shall  we  soon  be  there 
now?" 

"The  business  will  begin  in  about  an  hour  and  a  half." 

"Ah!" 

"Are  you  afraid?" 

"No,  but  my  heart  beats  with  anticipation,  I,  afraid ?  Not 
a  bit  of  it.  ...  Look  what  a  heavy  hoar-frost!  It  is  visible 
although  it's  dark." 

In  truth,  they  were  riding  across  a  stretch  of  country 
where  the  long  steppe-grasses  were  heavy  with  rime.  Pan 
Michael  looked  and  exclaimed: 

"Motovidlo  came  this  way.  He  must  be  hiding  only  two 
miles  away.  The  day  is  already  breaking." 

Indeed  it  was  dawn.  It  was  getting  lighter.  The  heavens 
and  the  earth  were  growing  gray  and  the  atmosphere  was 
paling;  the  tops  of  the  trees  and  bushes  looked  as  if  turning 
to  silver.  Distant  clumps  gradually  became  visible  as  if  in- 
tervening curtains  were  being  lifted  one  by  one.  Suddenly 
a  horseman  issued  from  a  neighboring  coppice. 

"From  Pan  Motovidlo?"  asked  Pan  Michael,  as  the  Cossack 
halted  immediately  in  front  of  them. 

"Yes,  your  lordship." 

"What  is  the  news?" 

'"They  crossed  Sirotski  Brod,  then  turned  to  where  the 
cattle  were  lowing,  and  then  went  towards  Kalusik.  They 
took  the  cattle  and  are  now  at  Yurgove  Polye." 


2Ig  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"And  where  is  Pan  Motovidlo?" 

"He  has  halted  near  the  hill,  and  Pan  Mellekhovich  near 
Kalusik.  I  don't  know  where  the  other  squadrons  are." 

"Good,"  exclaimed  Pan  Michael,  "I  know.  Hasten  to  Pan 
Motovidlo  and  order  him  to  close  in  and  station  men  singly 
half-way  towards  Pan  Mellekhovich.  Be  quick!" 

The  Cossack  bowed  on  his  saddle  and  darted  forward,  so 
that  his  horse's  flanks  immediately  began  to  heave,  and  he 
was  quickly  out  of  sight.  They  rode  on,  still  more  quietly 
and  cautiously.  Meanwhile  it  had  become  broad  daylight. 
The  mist,  which  at  dawn  had  risen  from  the  ground,  was 
now  dissipated,  and  in  the  eastern  heavens,  a  long  streak 
of  rosy  light  appeared,  which  cast  its  colored  reflection  upon 
the  higher  points  of  ground,  the  edges  of  the  ravines,  and  the 
heights. 

Then,  a  confused  sound  of  croaking  fell  on  their  ears,  from 
the  direction  of  the  Dniester,  and,  high  above  them  in  the 
air,  appeared  a  great  flock  of  ravens,  flying  towards  the  east. 
At  every  moment  a  single  bird  would  leave  the  others,  and 
instead  of  flying  straight  on,  would  describe  a  circle  as  kites 
and  falcons  do,  when  on  the  watch  for  prey. 

Pan  Zagloba  raised  his  sabre,  and  pointing  it  at  the  ravens, 
said  to  Basia: 

"Admire  the  instinct  of  those  birds,  just  as  soon  as  there 
is  a  battle  anywhere,  they  will  come  from  every  direction, 
as  if  some  one  had  shaken  them  out  of  a  bag.  But  only  let 
an  army  march  alone  or  advance  to  meet  allies,  and  not  one 
of  them  appears,  therefore,  these  creatures  are  able  to  divine 
man's  intentions,  without  any  assistance.  Their  sense  of 
smell  cannot  -assist  them  in  such  a  case,  and,  therefore,  you 
have  cause  for  marvel." 

In  the  meantime,  the  birds  had  come  very  close,  croaking 
louder  and  louder;  Pan  Mushalski,  therefore,  turned  to  the 
little  knight  and  said,  as  he  slapped  his  bow: 

"Colonel,  is  it  forbidden  to  bring  down  one,  to  please  the 
lady.  It  won't  make  any  noise." 

"Bring  down  two,  if  you  like,"  Pan  Michael  replied,  see- 
ing that  the  old  soldier  was  anxious  to  show  off  his  un- 
erring archery. 

On  this,  the  matchless  archer  reached  back  and  took  a. 
feathered  arrow  out  of  his  quiver,  fitted  it  on  the  string, 
raised  the  bow,  and  waited. 

The  flock  was  coming  nearer  and  nearer.    They  all  reined 


PAN    MICHAEL.  2ig 

in  their  horses  and  looked  curiously  into  the  sky.  Suddenly 
the  plaintive  twang  of  the  string  was  heard,  like  the  twitter 
of  a  sparrow,  and  the  arrow  darted  away  and  disappeared 
among  t]ie  flock. 

For  a  few  moments  it  seemed  as  if  Mushalski  had  missed, 
but  suddenly  a  bird  reeled  over  and  came  swooping  towards 
the  earth,  above  their  heads,  and,  falling  over  and  over, 
finally  came  down  with  extended  wings  exactly  like  a  leaf 
floating  on  the  air. 

It  dropped  a  few  steps  in  front  of  Basia's  pony.  The 
arrow  had  pierced  the  raven,  so  that  the  head  was  shining 
above  the  bird's  back. 

"A  fortunate  omen,"  said  Mushalki,  bowing  to  Basia. 
"I  will  keep  an  eye  from  a  distance  upon  the  lady-Colonel, 
and,  if  there  is  any  sudden  emergency,  God  grant  that  again 
I  may  despatch  a  lucky  arrow.  Though  it  may  whizz  close 
to  you,  I  promise  it  shall  not  hurt  you/' 

"I  shouldn't  like  to  be  the  Tartar  that  is  your  mark," 
Basia  answered. 

Here  Pan  Michael  interrupted  them,  as  he  pointed  to  a 
high  mound,  some  furlongs  off,  and  said: 

"There  we  will  halt." 

Then  they  went  forward  at  a  trot.  Half-way  up,  the  little 
knight  ordered  them  to  slacken  their  speed,  and,  at  last,  near 
the  top,  he  reined  up. 

"We  will  not  go  to  the  summit,"  he  said,  "because  on  such 
a  clear  morning,  we  might  catch  the  eye  from  a  long  distance, 
but  we  will  dismount  and  cautiously  approach  the  summit, 
so  that  a  few  of  us  may  peep  over." 

Then  he  sprang  from  his  horse,  and  was  followed  by 
Basia,  Pan  Mushalski,  and  several  others.  The  dragoons 
staid  below  the  ridge  in  charge  of  the  horses,  but  the  others 
advanced  to  the  point  where  the  ground  fell  almost  perpen- 
dicularly like  a  wall,  into  a  valley  below.  . 

At  the  foot  of  this  wall,  which  was  some  tens  of  yards  high, 
there  was  a  narrow,  dense  belt  of  brush-wood,  and  then  came 
a  low  level  plain;  from  the  eminence  where  they  were  posted, 
they  could  see  a  great  distance  along  the  plain. 

This  plain,  which  was  intersected  by  a  little  stream  flow- 
ing towards  Kalusik,  was  dotted  with  thickets  similar  to  the 
ground  by  the  cliff.  Among  these  clumps  thin  wreaths  of 
smoke  were  risincr  into  the  nir. 

"Ton  gee/'  rnn  Michael  cried  to  Basia,  "that's  where  the 
foe  ia  in  hidinir." 


220  pAX    MICHAEL. 

"I  can  see  smoke,  but  no  men  nor  horses/7  she  answered, 
her  heart  beating  quickly. 

"They  are  hidden  in  the  thickets,  but  they  are  visible  to 
a  trained  eye.  Look  there,  two,  three,  four,  a  whole  troop 
of  horses  are  visible.  One  mottled,  and  another  all  white,  and 
it  looks  blue  from  this  distance." 

"Shall  we  soon  advance  against  them?" 

"They  will  be  driven  towards  us,  but  there  is  plenty  of 
time,  for  they  are  a  mile  and  a  quarter  away." 

"Where  are  ours?" 

"Do  you  see  the  skirt  of  the  wood,  yonder.  The  Under- 
Chamberlain's  company  must  have  reached  that  point  by 
now.  Mellekhovich  will  penetrate  on  the  other  edge  in  a 
minute.-  His  squadron  will  attack  the  bandits  from  that 
cliff.  When  they  see  them,  the  bandits  will  come  in  our 
direction,  because  on  this  side  it  is  possible  to  reach  the 
river  under  the  bluff,  but  on  the  other  side,  there  is  a  pre- 
cipitous ravine  which  is  impassable." 

"Then  they  are  caught  in  a  trap?" 

"As  you  see." 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  I  can  scarcely  keep  still!"  cried 
Basia. 

But  presently  she  asked: 

"Michael,  what  would  they  do,  if  they  were  wise?" 

"They  would  spring  as  if  through  smoke  at  the  men  of 
the  Under-Chamberlain's  squadron,  and  pass  over  their 
bodies.  Then  they  would  be  safe.  But  they  won't  do  that, 
for,  in  the  first  place,  they  do  not  like  to  face  regular  horse; 
and  in  the  second,  they  will  be  afraid  that  other  troops  a/e 
in  reserve  in  the  forest,  'and  so  they  will  flee  towards  us." 

"Oh,  but  we  cannot  resist  them,  there  are  only  twenty  of 
us." 

"What  about  Motovidlo?" 

"That's  true?    Where  is  he?" 

For  answer,  Pan  Michael  suddenly  imitated  the  cry  of  a 
hawk  or  falcon. 

Immediately  he  was  answered  from  the  foot  of  the  cliff 
by  many  similar  calls.  These  were  Motovidlo's  Cossacks, 
who  were  so  well  concealed  among  the  bushes  that  Basia, 
although  stationed  immediately  above  them,  had  not  caught 
a  glimpse  of  them. 

She  looked  in  amazement  from  the  little  knight  to  the 
bushes  below,  and  suddenly  her  eyes  gleamed  and  she  threw 
her  arms  around  her  husband's  neck. 


PAN    MICHAEL.  221 

"Michael,  dear,  you  are  the  best  leader  in  the  world." 

"I  have  had  a  little  experience,  that  is  all"  he  smiled. 
'"'But  restrain  your  ecstasies  here,  and  remember  that  a  good 
soldier  must  be  calm." 

The  warning  was  useless,  however.  Basia  was  in  a  fever 
of  excitement.  She  wanted  to  mount  her  horse  immediately, 
and  descend  from  the  height  to  join  Motovidlo's  party.  But 
Pan  Michael  restained  her,  for  he  wanted  her  to  get  a  clear 
view  of  the  start. 

In  the  meantime,  the  morning  sun  had  risen  above  the 
plain  and  bathed  it  in  a  cold,  pale,  golden  light.  The 
nearer  thickets  were  glowing,  while  those  more  distant  and 
hazy  became  more  sharply  outlined;  the  rime,  lying  in  patches 
on  the  low  grounds,  was  momentarily  vanishing;  the  atmos- 
phere had  become  quite  clear,  and  the  eye  could  see  for  an 
immense  distance. 

The  Under-Chamberlain's  squadron  is  issuing  from  the 
wood,"  said  Pan  Michael.  "I  see  horses  and  men." 

In  fact,  horses  and  men  began  to  issue  from  the  shadow 
of  the  trees  and  formed  a  long  black  line  across  the  plain, 
which  along  the  edge  of  the  wood  was  thickly  covered  with 
hoar-frost.  Gradually  the  white  strip  between  them  and 
the  trees  began  to  broaden.  It  was  plain  that  they  were  not 
making  too  much  haste,  but  were  giving  plenty  of  time  to 
the  other  squadrons.  Pan  Michael  then  turned  towards  the 
left. 

"Mellekovich  has  also  arrived/  'he  said. 

And  presently  he  added: 

"And  the  followers  of  the  sub-governor  of  Pshemyl  are 
coming.  Not  one  of  them  is  two  Paters  late."  His  lips 
worked  with  excitement.  "We  must  not  go  on  foot.  Now  let 
us  mount." 

They  quickly  returned  to  the  dragoons,  and,  vaulting  into 
the  saddles,  rode  down  the  side  of  the  eminence  to  the  wood 
below,  where  were  Motovidlo's  Semenovs. 

Then  they  moved  in  a  body  to  the  skirt  of  the  trees,  where 
they  stopped,  and  looked  ahead. 

It  was  plain  that  the  enemy  had  discovered  the  Tinder- 
Chamberlain's  squadron,  for  at  that  very  moment,  a  crowd 
of  horsemen  sprang  out  of  the  clump  of  trees  in  the  middle 
of  the  plain,  like  a  hunted  herd  of  deer.  More  appeared  at 
each  instant.  Forming  a  line,  they  first  rode  across  the 
plain,  skirting  the  thicket;  the  riders  were  crouching  along 


MICHAEL. 

the  backs  of  the  horses,  in  ordrr  (hat.  from  a  distance,  they 
might  look  like  a  herd  of  riderJoss  horsos  advancing.  It 
was  evident  that,  so  far,  they  were  uncertain  whether  the 
troop  was  advancing  against  them,  or  even  whether  they 
were  observed,  or  whether  it  was  simply  a  scouting  party. 
If  it  was  the  later,  they  might  hope  to  escape  observation  by 
means  of  the  trees. 

From  the  spot  where  Pan  Michael  was  stationed  at  the 
head  of  Motovidlo's  followers,  the  vacillating  and  doubtful 
movements  of  the  chambul  could  be  clearly  observed,  and 
they  looked  exactly  like  the  actions  of  wild  animals  when 
they  scent  danger.  When  they  had  got  half-way  along  the 
clump,  they  broke  into  a  moderate  gallop.  When  the  first 
of  them  reached  the  open  plain,  they  suddenly  reined  up, 
and  those  behind  imitated  them. 

On  that  side,  they  had  seen  Mellekhovich's  detachment 
coming  up. 

They  then  made  a  half-circle  in  the  opposite  direction, 
and  came  in  view  of  the  whole  Pshemysl  squadron,  advancing 
at  a  trot. 

It  was  now  made  clear  to  the  bandits  that  all  the  various 
troops  were  aware  of  their  presence  and  were  advancing  to 
the  attack.  They  broke  into  wild  cries  and  fell  into  disorder. 
The  cavalry,  also  shouting,  came  on  at  a  gallop,  till  the 
plain  thundered  under  the  tramp  of  the  horses.  When  they 
saw  this,  the  outlaw  chambul  swiftly  extended  into  a  long 
line  and  urged  their  horses  to  their  utmost  speed  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  bluff,  at  the  foot  of  which,  the  little  knight 
was  stationed  with  Motovidlo  and  his  men. 

The  space  dividing  the  parties  was  being  lessened  with 
marvellous  rapidity. 

At  first,  Basia  grew  rather  pale  with,  excitement,  and 
her  heart  beat  violently;  but,  remembering  that  the  eyes  of 
others  were  upon  her,  and  seeing  that  the  others  were  not 
in  the  least  disturbed,  she  quickly  recovered  herself.  More- 
over, the  band  that  was  coming  on  like  a  whirlwind,  en- 
grossed her  attention.  She  tightened  her  rein,  took  a  firmer 
hold  on  her  little  sabre,  and  the  blood  again  rushed  violently 
from  her  heart  into  her  face. 

"Well?   good!"  said  the  little  knight. 

She  fixed  her  eyes  on  him,  her  nostrils  dilated,  and  she 
whispered: 

"Shall  we  soon  charge?" 


PAX    MICHAEL.  223 

"There's  plenty  of  time  yet." 

But  the  others  were  fleeing,  fleeing  like  a  gray  wolf  from 
the  hounds.  They  were  within  half  a  furlong  of  the  bushes; 
the  extended  heads  of  the  horses  could  be  seen,  with  their 
ears  laid  back,  and  Tartar  faces  above  them,  as  if  part  of 
the  mane.  .  .  .  They  came  nearer  and  nearer.  Basia 
heard  the  snorting  of  the  horses,  as  their  drawn  lips  and 
protruding  eyes  showed  that  they  were  going  at  breathless 
speed.  .  .  .  Pan  Michael  made  a  sign,  and  the  hedge  of 
Semenov  guns  were  leveled  at  the  galloping  outlaws. 

"Fire!" 

There  was  a  roar  and  a  cloud  of  smoke:  It  was  like  chaff 
struck  by  a  whirlwind.  In  a  second,  the  band,  howling  and 
yelling  was  scattered  in  every  direction.  The  little  knight 
immediately  issued  from  the  bushes,  and,  at  the  same  instant 
the  Lipkovs  and  the  Under-Chamberlain's  men  completed  the 
circle  and  drove  back  the  scattered  foe  into  one  group.  In 
vain  the  horde  tried  to  escape  separately,  in  vain  they 
circled  about,  darting  to  the  right,  left,  front,  and  rear;  they 
were  completely  surrounded,  and,  therefore,  in  spite  of  them- 
selves, they  were  huddled  together.  In  the  meantime,  the 
various  squadrons  galloped  up  and  a  terrible  slaughter  com- 
menced. 

The  raiders  saw  that  the  only  one  who  could  escape  with 
his  life  woud  have  to  cut  his  way  through,  and  so,  they 
began  to  defend  themselves  with  rage  and  desperation, 
though  without  any  combined  order;  each  for  himself.  So 
furious  was  the  onset  that  at  the  very  first  shot,  the  field 
was  strewn  with  the  slain.  The  military,  bracing  and  spur- 
ring on  their  horses  in  spite  of  the  crowd,  cut  and  slashed 
with  that  pitiless  and  terrible  skill  which  belongs  only  to 
the  professional  soldier.  The  sound  of  the  blows  was  audible 
above  the  ring  of  men,  like  the  strokes  of  flails,  when 
wielded  rapidly  by  a  l^and  of  men  on  a  threshing-floor.  The 
horde  was  pierced  and  sabred  through  head,  shoulder,  and 
neck;  and  through  the  hands  with  which  they  tried  to  shield 
their  heads;  on  all  sides  the  swords  fell  like  hail  without 
quarter  or  mercy.  They  also  struck  with  what  weapons  they 
had,  daggers,  sabres,  loaded  sticks  or  horse-skulls.  Their 
horses,  driven  back,  reared  up,  or  fell  backward  entirely. 
Others  screamed  and  bit  and  kicked  at  the  press  and  caus# 
dreadful  confusion.  After  a  short,  silent,  struggle,  the  bandits 
gave  vent  to  a  terrible  cry.  They  were  being  borne  down  with 


224 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


superior  numbers,  better  weapons,  and  greater  skill.  They 
realized  that  there  was  no  help  for  them,  that  no  man  could 
escape  with  his  spoil,  nor  even  with  his  life.  The  soldiers 
gradually  warmed  to  the  work  and  pressed  them  more 
strongly.  Some  of  the  bandits  dismounted  and  made  an  at- 
tempt to  glide  away  between  the  legs  of  the  horses.  These 
were  trampled  to  death  by  the  horses'  hoofs,  and  sometimes 
the  soldiers  wrould  desist  from  fighting  to  stab  them  from 
above;  some  lay  on  the  ground  in  the  hope  that,  as  the 
soldiers  pressed  to  the  centre,  they  would  be  left  outside  the 
circle,  and  so  find  safety  in  flight. 

In  fact,  the  band  was  momentarily  decreasing  in  num- 
bers, as  horse  and  man  fell.  When  Azba  Bey  saw  this,  to  the 
best  of  his  ability  he  formed  his  horses  and  men  in  a  wedge, 
and  cast  himself  with  all  his  force  against  Motovidlo's  Se- 
menovs  in  an  attempt  to  break  the  ring,  cost  what  it  might. 

But  he  was  repulsed,  and  then  a  dreadful  slaughter  began. 
At  the  same  moment  Mellekhovich,  raging  like  a  fire,  pierced 
the  band  midway,  and,  leaving  one-half  to  the  other  squad- 
rons, fell  on  the  rear  of  those  who  were  attacking  the  Cos- 
sacks. 

It  is  true  that  some  of  the  bandits  escaped  through  the 
circle  over  the  plain  by  this  movement,  and  scattered  like  a 
cloud  of  leaves;  but  those  soldiers  in  the  rear  who  could  not 
get  the  enemy,  because  of  the  closeness  of  the  fight,  imme- 
diately pursued  them  in  twos,  or  threes,  or  singly.  Those  who 
did  not  succeed  in  breaking  through  notwithstanding  their 
stubborn  resistance,  fell  side  by  side  beneath  the  sabre,  like 
grain  reaped  by  two  lines  of  harvesters. 

Basia  advanced  with  the  Cossacks,  piping  with  a  shrill 
voice,  to  keep  up  her  courage,  for,  at  first,  a  cloud  came 
across  her  eyes,  caused  by  the  rapidity  of  the  motion  and 
intense  excitement.  As  she  charged  up  to  the  enemy,  she 
was  only  conscious  at  first  of  a  dar^:,  struggling,  surging 
mass.  She  had  an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  shut  her 
eyes  entirely.  It  is  true  that  she  overcame  it,  but,  neverthe- 
less, her  sabre  struck  somewhat  blindly.  Soon  her  courage 
got  the  upper  hand,  and  she  immediately  saw  clearly.  Before 
her  she  saw  horses'  heads,  with  flushed  and  savage  faces  be- 
hind them;  one  of  them  was  glaring  immediately  in  front 
•f  her;  Basia  slashed  at  it,  'and  it  vanished  like  a  phantom. 

At  that  moment  she  heard  her  husband's  tranquil  voice, 

"Good!" 


/'JLY    MICHAEL. 


225 


She  was  delighted  to  hear  it,  shouted  again,  and  began 
to  deal  destruction  with  perfect  coolness  and  self-possession. 
Again  she  saw  a  horrible  face  with  a  flat  nose  and  prominent 
cheek-bones  gnashing  its  teeth  in  front  of  her.  Another 
hand  raised  a  sling-shot.  Basia  struck  at  that.  She  saw 
a  shoulder  in  a  sheep-skin  coat  and  slashed  at  that.  Then 
she  struck  right,  left,  and  in  front  of  her,  and,  whenever  she 
made  a.  pass,  a  man  crashed  to  the  earth,  wrenching  the 
bridle  from  his  horse.  Basia  was  surprised  that  it  was  all 
so  easy,  but  the  reason  was  that  the  little  knight  was  riding 
at  one  side,  stirrup  beside  stirrup,  and  Pan  Montovidlo  at 
the  other.  The  former  carefully  watched  over  his  beloved — 
and  that  extinguished  a  man  like  a  candle;  then,  with  his 
sharp  sword,  he  lopped  off  an  arm  together  with  its  weapon; 
again,  he  thrust  his  sword  between  Basia  and  the  foe,  and 
the  hostile  sabre  flew  up  as  suddenly  as  if  it  were  a  winged 
bird. 

Pan  Montovidlo,  a  seasoned  warrior,  guarded  the  cour- 
ageous lady  on  the  other  side;  and,  as  a  busy  gardener  prunes 
the  dry  boughs  from  the  trees,  so  time  and  again,  he  felled 
foes  to  the  blood-soaked  earth,  and  fought  with  as  much 
sangfroid,  as  if  he  were  thinking  of  something  else.  They 
both  knew  when  to  allow  Basia  to  advance  alone,  and  when 
to  be  beforehand  and  restrain  her.  A  third  man  was  watching 
over  her  from  the  distance;  the  matchless  archer,  who,  pur- 
posely keeping  apart,  every  now  and  then  fitted  an  arrow  to 
the  string  and  sent  an  unerring  messenger  of  death  into  the 
thick  of  the  press. 

But  the  melee  became  so  fierce  that  Pan  Michael  ordered 
Basia  to  retire  from  the  fight,  with  a  few  attendants,  par- 
ticularly since  the  half  wild  horses  of  the  horde  were  be- 
ginning to  bite  and  kick.  Basia  immediately  obeyed,  for, 
although  she  was  being  carried  away  by  excitement  and  her 
bold  heart  prompted  her  to  continue  the  fight,  her  feminine 
nature  was  overcoming  her  martial  spirit,  and  amid  that 
bloodshed  and  slaughter,  amid  the  howls,  groans,  and  agonies 
of  the  dying,  amid  an  atmosphere  heavy  with  the  odor  of 
sweat  and  raw  flesh,  she  began  to  flinch. 

Slowly  reining  back  her  horse,  she  was  soon  outside  the 
ring  of  combatants,  so  that  Pan  Michael  and  Montovidlo, 
relieved  from  the  task  of  watching  over  her,  were,  at  last,  able 
to  give  free  rein  to  their  fighting  spirit. 

Pnn  Muslialski,  who  had  hitherto  kept  at  a  distance,  now 
approached  Basia,  and  said: 
15 


226  PA*    MICHAEL. 

"Your  ladyship  fought  like  a  true  knight.  Any  man,  not 
knowing  that  it  was  you,  would  have  imagined  that  Michael 
the  Archangel  had  descended  to  the  aid  of  our  Semenovs, 
and  was  smiting  those  dog  brothers.  It  is  an  honor  for  them 
to  fall  by  such  a  little  hand,  which,  on  this  occasion,  I  pray 
not  to  be  barred  from  kissing." 

Then  he  seized  her  hands  and  pressed  them  to  his  mous- 
staches. 

"Did  you  see  it,  Sir?  Did  I  really  do  well?'7  asked  Basia 
inhaling  long  breaths  of  the  pure  air. 

"A  cat  could  do  no  better  against  rats.  As  I  love  God, 
it  made  my  heart  beat  faster  to  see  you.  But  you  were  quite 
right  to  withdraw  from  the  fight,  for  there  is  more  risk  of 
an  accident  towards  the  end.'' 

"My  husband  ordered  it,  and  when  I  left  home  I  promised 
implicit  obedience." 

"Can  I  leave  my  bow?  It  is  no  longer  of  any  use,  and  I 
want  to  advance  with  the  sabre.  I  see  three  men  coming, 
who,  of  course,  are  sent  by  the  Colonel  to  guard  your  lady- 
ship's person.  Otherwise  I  would  send  for  a  guard;  but  now 
I  will  go  down  to  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  for  it  will  soon  be  all 
over,  'and  I  must  make  haste." 

In  fact,  three  dragoons  were  coming  up  to  guard  Basia, 
and  seeing  this,  Pan  Mushalski  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and 
galloped  off.  For  a  moment,  Basia  was  in  doubt,  whether 
to  remain  where  she  was,  or  ride  around  the  bluff,  and  go  to 
the  spot  whence  they  had  looked  down  the  ravine  before  the 
battle  commenced.  But  she  determined  to  stay  where  she 
was,  as  she  felt  very  tired. 

Her  woman's  nature  was  asserting  itself  more  and  more 
strongly.  About  two  hundred  yards  away,  they  were  merci- 
lessly cutting  down  the  last  of  the  marauders,  and  a  black 
mass  of  combatants  was  struggling  more  and  more  fiercely 
on  the  blood-stained  battlefield.  Cries  of  despair  rent  the 
air,  and  Basia,  who,  a  few  moments  before  had  been  so 
full  of  ardor,  for  some  reason  or  other,  now  felt  faint  and 
weak.  She  was  seized  with  a  great  fear  and  nearly  fainted, 
only  maintaining  her  seat  in  the  saddle  out  of  shame  in 
the  presence  of  the  dragoons;  she  turned  her  face  away  from 
them  to  hide  its  pallor.  The  fresh  air  gradually  restored  her 
strength  and  courage,  but  not  to  the  extent  of  making  her 
anxious  to  renew  the  iwht.  *  If  she  had  gone,  it  would  have 
been  to  beg  fov  mercy  for  those  of  the  horde  who  were  left. 


PAN    MICHAEL.  22y 

But,  knowing  that  would  be  futile,  she  anxiously  awaited  the 
termination  of  the  struggle. 

But  there  they  were  still  cutting  and  slashing.  There  was 
not  a  moment's  cessation  of  the  sounds  of  the  cries  and  blows. 
About  half  an  hour  had  now  passed  and  the  troops  were 
pressing  in  more  closely.  Suddenly  about  twenty  of  the 
raiders  broke  through  the  deadly  ring  and  swept  like  a 
tempest  towards  the  bluff. 

By  fleeing  along  the  cliff,  they  might,  indeed,  reach  a  spot 
where  it  gradually  descended  into  the  plain,  and  find  their 
escape  on  the  higher  ground;  but  Basia  and  the  dragoons 
were  immediately  in  their  path.  The  presence  of  danger 
brought  fresh  courage  to  Basia's  heart  at  that  moment 
and  restored  her  self-control.  She  saw  at  once  that  it  was 
certain  death  to  stay  where  she  was,  for  the  mere  shock 
of  the  bandits  would  overthrow  and  trample  her  and  her 
guards  under  foot,  without  taking  account  of  the  certainty 
of  being  sabred.  The  old  sergeant  of  dragoons  was  evidently 
of  this  opinion,  for  he  grasped  the  bridle  of  Basia's  pony, 
turned  it  round,  and  cried  almost  in  tones  of  despair: 

"Gallop!   gracious  lady!" 

Basia,  alone,  darted  away  like  a  whirlwind,  but  the 
three  faithful  soldiers  stood  on  the  spot,  like  a  rock,  to  hinder 
the  foe,  if  only  for  a  moment,  and  give  their  beloved  mis- 
tress time  to  get  away. 

Meantime,  other  soldiers  were  closely  pursuing  the  party, 
but  the  ring,  that  had  hitherto  closely  enclosed  the  raiders, 
was  broken  by  the  movement,  and  the  latter  began  to  escape, 
first  by  twos  and  threes,  and  then  in  greater  numbers.  .  .  . 
By  far  the  majority  of  them  were  lying  on  the  earth,  but  a 
few  dozens,  including  Azba  Bey,  managed  to  flee.  In  a  con- 
fused mass  they  all  made  for  the  bluff  as  fast  as  their  horses 
could  gallop. 

Three  dragoons  were  not  enough  to  stop  all  the  fugitives, 
in  fact,  after  a  brief  contest,  they  fell  from  their  saddles,  and 
the  throng,  following  Basia,  mounted  the  slope  of  the  bluff  ' 
and  reached  the  higher  ground.  The  front  rank  of  the  Polish 
squadrons  and  the  Lithuanian  Tartars,  who  were  nearest, 
were  galloping  at  full  speed  some  dozen  paces  behind  them. 

On  the  upland,  which  was  numerously  intersected  by 
treacherous  holes  and  ravines,  the  whole  cavalcade  formed 
a  gigantic  serpent,  the  head  of  which  was  Basia;  the  neck, 
the  raiders;  and  the  rest  of  the  body,  Mellekhovich  and  the 


228  PAN    MICHAEL. 

Lipkov  Tartars  and  dragoons,  headed  by  Pan  Michael,  who 
was  burying  his  spurs  in  the  flanks  of  his  horse,  while  his 
heart  was  overwhelmed  with  terror. 

At  the  moment  when  the  little  band  of  marauders  had 
broken  through  the  circle,  Pan  Michael  had  been  on  the 
other  side,  and  so  Mellekhovich  was  before  him  in  the  pur- 
suit. His  hair  stood  up  on  the  head  of  the  little  knight,  at 
the  thought  that  Basia  might  be  captured  by  the  fugitives, 
or  lose  her  presence  of  mind  and  make  straight  for  the 
Dniester,  or  that  any  of  the  robbers  might  reach  her  with  a 
sabre,  dagger,  or  loaded  stick,  and  his  heart  sank  within  him 
in  fear  for  her  life.  Bending  down  almost  to  his  horse's 
neck,  his  face  was  white,  his  teeth  set,  and  a  tempest  of 
horrible  thoughts  surged  in  his  brain;  he  dug  his  sharp  spurs 
into  his  horse,  beat  him  with  the  flat  of  his  sword,  and  flew 
along  like  a  bustard  before  soaring. 

In  front  of  him  fled  the  Tartars. 

"God  grant  that  Mellekliovich  may  catch  them!  He  is  on 
a  good  horse.  God  grant  it/'  he  repeated  in  his  despair. 

But  his  fears  were  exaggerated  and  the  danger  was  not 
so  serious  as  it  appeared  to  the  devoted  little  knight.  The 
outlaws  were  thinking  too  much  of  the  safety  of  their  own 
skins,  and  they  felt  the  Tartars  too  close  behind  them  to 
trouble  about  pursuing  a  single  rider,  even  if  she  were  the 
most  beautiful  houri  in  the  Mohammedan  paradise,  fleeing  in 
a  robe  covered  with  jewels.  Basia  had  only  to  turn  towards 
Khreptyov  to  avoid  pursuit,  for  most  certainly  the  fugitives 
would  not  have  turned  back  into  the  lion's  jaws  after  her, 
when  before  them  was  a  river,  with  reeds  among  which  they 
could  hide.  The  Lipkovs  had  better  horses  also,  and  Basia 
was  mounted  on  a  steed  that  was  vastly  swifter  than  the  usual 
shaggy  brutes  of  the  horde,  which  had  great  stamina  in 
flight,  but  were  slower  than  high-bred  horses.  Moreover, 
not  only  did  she  preserve  her  presence  of  mind,  but  her 
daring  nature  asserted  itself  with  full  force,  and  the  cavalier 
spirit  again  burned  in  her  veins. 

The  pony  was  extended  like  a  deer,  and  the  wind  was 
whistling  in  Basia's  ears,  but  her  feeling  was  one  of  exul- 
tation rather  than  terror. 

"They  might  chase  me  for  a  whole  year  and  never  catch 
me,"  she  thought.  "I  will  gallop  on  for  a  time  and  then  turn 
aside,  and  either  let  them  go  by,  or,  if  they  are  still  fallowing 
me,  I  will  put  them  to  the  sabre," 


PAN   MICHAEL.  22$ 

It  occurred  to  her  that  in  ease  the  raiders  behind  her 
were  much  scattered  over  the  plain,  she  might  meet  one  of 
them  in  single  combat  if  she  were  to  turn  back. 

-Well,  what  of  that!"  she  said  valiantly  to  herself. 
"Michael  has  taught  me,  so  that  I  may  boldly  risk  it;  if  I 
don't  they  will  think  that  1  am  running  away  in  fear,  and 
will  never  take  me  on  another  expedition,  and  besides  Pan 
Zagloba  will  make  fun  of  me.  .  .  . 

She  therefore  looked  backwards  at  the  raiders,  but  they 
were  all  escaping  in  a  bunch.  There  was  no  chance  of  a 
single  combat,  but  Basia  wanted  to  prove,  in  the  sight  of 
all,  that  she  was  not  running  away  in  terror  and  at  haphazard. 

To  this  end,  she  recollected  that  in  her  holster  she  had 
two  excellent  pistols,  which  Michael  himself  had  carefully 
loaded  before  they  started,  she  reined  in  her  charger,  or 
rather,  turned  its  head  in  the  direction  of  Khreptyov. 

But,  to  her  amazement,  on  seeing  this,  the  whole  band 
of  raiders  slightly  altered  their  own  course,  turning  more 
to  the  left  towards  the  edge  of  the  bluff.  Basia  allowed 
them  to  approach  within  a  dozen  paces  and  fired  a  couple 
of  shots  at  the  horses  that  were  nearest;  then  turning  she 
again  broke  into  a  gallop  in  the  direction  of  Khreptyov. 

But  the  charger  had  only  gone  a  few  yards  as  fleet  as  a 
swallow  when  suddenly,  in  front  of  them,  yawned  a  dark 
hollow  in  the  steppe.  Basia  thoughtlessly  spurred  her 
steed,  and  the  noble  animal  did  not  refuse  but  sprang  for- 
ward; however,  only  his  forefeet  landed  on  the  opposite  tank. 
For  a  moment  he  made  violent  efforts  to  get  a  holding  with 
his  hind  feet  on  the  steep  bank;  but  the  earth  was  not  yet 
frozen  hard  enough,  and  slipped  from  under  his  feet,  and 
the  horse  fell  into  the  chasm  with  Basia. 

Luckily  it  did  not  fall  upon  her;  she  managed  to  free  her 
feet  from  the  stirrups  and  throwing  her  whole  weight  to  one 
side  she  fell  on  a  thick  bed  of  moss  which  covered  the  bottom 
of  the  hollow  like  a  lining;  but  she  swooned  from  the  force 
of  the  concussion. 

Pan  Michael  did  not  see  her  fall,  for  the  Lipkov  Tartars 
concealed  it  from  his  sight;  but  Mellekhovich  cried  in  a 
terrible  voice,  to  his  men  to  continue  the  pursuit  of  the 
raiders,  and  hastening  to  the  chasm,  went  headlong  into  it. 

In  an  instant  he  had  dismounted  and  seized  Basia  in  his 
arms.  His  falcon  eyes  scrutinized  her  all  over  in  an  instant 
to  see  if  there  was  any  sign  of  blood;  then  he  saw  the  moss, 


230  PAN  MICHAEL. 

and  understood  at  once  that  it  had  preserved  her  and  her 
pony  from  death. 

A  stifled  cry  of  joy  escaped  the  lips  of  the  young  Tartar. 

Basia  was  lying  in  his  arms  and  he  pressed  her  to  his 
breast  with  all  his  might,  and  then,  with  his  pale  lips-,  he 
kissed  her  eyes  again  and  again  as  though  he  wished  to  ab- 
sorb them.  The  whole  world  seemed  to  turn  round  him  in 
a  mad  whirl,  and  he  was  carried  away  like  a  tempest  by  the 
passion  which  he  had  hitherto  concealed  deep  in  his  heart, 
like  a  Dragon  in  a  cave. 

At  that  moment,  however,,  the  tramp  of  many  horsea 
echoed  on  the  steppe  above,  and  sounded  every  moment 
nearer.  Many  voices  were  crying:  "Here!  this  is  the  chasm, 
here!"  Mellekhovich  laid  Basia  down  upon  the  moss,  and 
called  out  to  those  who  were  approaching: 

"This  way,  here,  this  way!" 

In  another  minute  Pan  Michael  was  at  the  bottom  of  the 
chasm,  and  was  followed  by  Pan  Zagloba,  Mushalski,  and 
several  other  officers. 

"There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  her,"  cried  the  Tartar, 
"the  moss  saved  her." 

Pan  Michael  grasped  the  hands  of  his  fainting  wife,  while 
others  ran  for  water  which  was  some  distance  away.  Za- 
globa laying  his  hand  on  her  head,  began  to  cry, 

"Bashka!   dearest  Bashka!   Bashka!" 

"She's  all  right,"  said  Mellekhovich,  as  white  as  a  corpse. 

Meanwhile  Zagloba  put  his  hand  to  his  side,  took  out  a 
flask,  poured  some  gorzalka  into  his  hand,  and  began  to  rub 
her  temples.  Then  he  put  the  flask  to  her  lips;  this  evi- 
dently was  effectual,  for,  before  the  men  came  back  with  the 
water,  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  began  to  gasp  and  cough,  for 
the  gorzalka  had  burned  the  roof  of  her  mouth  and  throat. 
In  a  few  minutes  she  had  entirely  recovered. 

Pan  Michael,  without  thinking  about  the  presence  of  the 
officers  and  soldiers,  pressed  her  to  his  heart  and  smothered 
her  hands  with  kisses,  crying: 

"Oh  my  love,  I  was  nearly  losing  my  senses.  Are  you  not 
hurt?  Have  you  no  pain?" 

"There's  nothing  the  matter,"  said  Basia.  "Ah,  I  re- 
member now,  it  suddenly  grew  dark,  for  the  horse  slipped. 
...  But  is  the  battle  over?" 

"Already  Azba  Bey  is  slain.  We  will  go  home  immediately, 
for  I  am  afraid  you  will  be  overcome  by  the  fatigue." 

"I  am  not  in  the  least  tired,"  said  Basia. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  23! 

Then  sharply  glancing  at  those  present  her  nostrils  diluted 
as  she  exclaimed: 

"Gentlemen,  don't  think  that  I  ran  away  out  of  fear.  0! 
I  did  not  even  dream  of  it.  As  I  love  Michael,  I  only  gal- 
loped ahead  of  them  in  spo^rt,  and  then  I  fired  my  pistols.'' 

"One  horse  was  shot,  and  we  captured  the  robber  alive," 
said  Mellekhovich. 

"Besides,"  continued  Basia,  "an  accident  of  that  kind 
might  happen  to  anyone  when  galloping,  mightn't  it?  No 
experience  can  guard  against  that,  and  a  horse  will  sometimes 
slip.  Ah!  it's  lucky  that  you  kept  your  eye  on  me,  gentle- 
men, for  I  might  have  lain  here  for  a  long  time." 

"Pan  Mellekhovich  was  the  first  to  see  you  and  save  you, 
for  he  was  ahead  of  us,"  said  Pan  Michael. 

When  Basia  heard  this,  she  turned  to  the  young  Tartar, 
and  held  out  her  hand. 

"I  thank  yon  for  your  kind  assistance." 

He  did  not  answer,  but  merely  pressed  her  hand  to  his 
lips,  and  then  submissively  embraced  her  feet,  like  a  pea- 
sant. 

Meanwhile  others  of  the  squadron  collected  at  the  edge  of 
the  chasm;  Pan  MichaeJ  merely  ordered  Mellekhovich  to  sur- 
round the  few  robbers  who  had  hidden  from  pursuit,  and  then 
started  for  Khreptyov.  On  the  way,  Basia  again  saw  the 
field  of  battle  from  the  bluff. 

Many  bodies  of  men  and  horses  lay  about,  some  in  heaps, 
and  some  by  themselves;  through  the  blue  sky  flocks  of 
crows  were  coming  in  greater  and  greater  numbers,  cawing 
loudly  and  settling  some  distance  oft',  awaiting  the  moment 
when  the  soldiers,  who  were  still  moving  about  the  plain, 
should  have  departed. 

"Those  are  the  soldiers'  grave-diggers,"  said  Zagloba,  point- 
ing his  sabre  at  the  birds,  "just  as  soon  as  we  are  gone,  the 
wolves  also  will  come  with  their  band,  and,  with  their  tedh, 
will  toll  the  bell  over  these  corpses.  This  is  a  great  victory, 
though  gained  over  such  an  infamous  enemy,  for  that  Azba 
has  ravaged  this  district  for  many  years.  Commanders  have 
hunted  him  like  a  wolf,  but  always  in  vain,  till  finally,  he  met 
Michael,  and  his  black  hour  came." 

"Is  Azba  Bey  slain?" 

"Mellekhovicli  was  the  first  to  overtake  him,  and,  if  "he 
didn't  give  him  a  cut,  above  the  ear!  He  was  cloven  to  the 
teeth." 


23* 


PAS'    MICHAEL. 


"Mellekhovich  is  a  good  soldier/'  cried  Basia. 

Then  she  turned  to  Zagloha: 

"Did  you  do  much?" 

"I  didn't  chirp  like  a  cricket,  nor  jump  like  a  flea,  because 
I  leave  such  games  for  insects.  But  if  I  didn't,  people  didn't 
have  to  hunt  for  me  among  the  moss,  like  mushrooms;  no 
one  pulled  my  nose>  nor  poured  anything  into  my  mouth." 

"I  don't  love  you,"  cried  Basia,  pouting,  as  she  put  her 
hand  instinctively  up  to  her  little  red  nose. 

And  he  looked  at  her  and  smiled  and  muttered,  still  jest- 
ing: 

"You  fought  valiantly,  you  ran  away  valiantly,  you  fell 
valiantly  head-over-heels,  and  now,  because  of  the  aches  in 
your  bones,  you  will  stow  away  grits  so  valiantly,  that  we 
shall  have  to  take  care  so  that  the  sparrows  don't  peck  you 
and  your  valor  up  for  they  are  very  fond  of  grits. 

"You  are  trying  to  stop  Michael  from  taking  me  on  another 
expedition.  I  know  you  well!" 

"That's  so,  that  is  so!  I  will  beg  him  always  to  take  you 
nutting  because  you  are  very  clever  and  do  not  break  the 
branches.  My  God,  My  God,  what  gratitude!  Who  induced 
Michael  to  let  you  go?  I!  Now  I  am  reproaching  myself 
for  it,  especially  as  this  is  the  way  I  get  paid  for  my  kindness. 
Wait,  at  Khreptyov,  you  shall  cut  stalks  now  with  a  wooden 
sword.  There's  an  expedition  for  you!  Any  other  woman 
would  hug  the  old  man.  But  this  scolding  devil  first  fright- 
ens me  to  death  and  then  goes  for  me." 

Basia  immediately  threw  her  arms  around  Zagloba's  neck. 
He  was  enraptured,  and  cried,  "Well,  well!  I  must  confess 
that  you  helped  to  gain  the  victory  to-day,  because  the  sol- 
diers fought  with  double  fury,  for  each  one  wanted  to  show 
his  valor." 

"On  my  life,"  cried  Pan  Mushalski,  "a  man  does  not  mind 
dying  with  such  eyes  watching  him." 

"Long  live  our  lady,"  cried  Pan  Nyenashinyets. 

"Long  life  to  her!"  cried  a  hundred  voices. 

"God  grant  her  health!" 

Here  Za^loba  leaned  towards  her  and  murmured: 

"After  delicate  health!" 

And  they  rode  forward  in  great  joy,  shouting  aloud  in 
anticipation  of  a  great  feast  that  evening.  It  was  beautiful 
weather.  The  music  of  the  drums  and  trumpets  struck  up 
among  the  troops  and  they  all  entered  Khreptyov  in  tumul- 
tuous confusion. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

To  their  great  surprise  Ilie  Volodiyovskis  found  guests  at 
Khreptyov.  Pan  Bogush  had  arrived  with  the  intention  of 
taking  up  his  abode  there  for  some  months  in  order  to  enter 
into  communications  through  Mellekhovich  with  the  Tartar 
leaders  Aleksandrovich,  Moravski,  Tvorovski,  Krychinski, 
and  others  of  the  Lipkov  and  Cheremi  Tartars  who  had  taken 
service  under  the  Sultan.  Pan  Bogush  was  also  accompanied 
by  old  Pan  Novovyeyski  and  his  daughter  Eva,  and  Pani 
Boska,  a  sedate  lady,  with  her  daughter  Panna  Zosia,  who  was 
in  her  early  youth  very  beautiful.  The  delight  of  the 
soldiers  was  almost  as  great  as  their  astonishment  at  the  sight 
of  the  ladies  in  the  wild  region  of  Khreptyov.  The  guests 
too  were  considerably  astonished  when  they  first  saw  the 
colonel  and  his  wife,  for  from  his  face  they  had  imagined  him 
to  be  some  kind  of  a  giant  whose  very  look  was  terrifying, 
and  his  wife  a  giantess  with  frowning  brow  and  a  harsh  voice. 
Instead  of  which  they  beheld  a  little  soldier  with  a  kind  and 
gentle  face  and  a  diminutive  woman,  a  rosy  little  bird,  who 
looked  more  like  a  little  boy  than  an  adult,  with  her  wide 
trousers  and  sabre.  The  hosts  welcomed  their  guests  with 
open  arms.  Basia  immediately  kissed  the  three  women  before 
being  introduced  to  them  and  when  she  heard  who  they  were 
and  whence  they  had  come,  she  said: 

"It  would  give  me  pleasure  if  I  could  bow  down  the 
heavens  for  you,  ladies  and  gentlemen.  I  am  delighted  to  see 
you!  It  is  fortunate  that  that  you  have  met  with  no  disagree- 
able experiences  on  the  road,  for  in  this  wilderness  it  is  not 
an  unusual  thing;  but  we  have  cut  the  marauders  to  pieces 
this  very  day." 

Noticing  Pani  Boska's  look  of  amazement,  she  slapped  her 
sabre,  and  said  very  boastfully: 

"I  also  was  present  at  the  battle!  Of  course  I  was!  That 
is  usual  with  us!  For  Heaven's  sake!  I  must  ask  you  ladies 
kindly  to  excuse  me  while  I  retire  and  resume 'the  garb  of  my 
own  sex  and  wash  a  little  of  the  blood  of!  my  hands;  for  I 

(233) 


234  PAN   MICHAEL. 

have  been  in  a  terrible  fight.  Oh,  if  we  hadn't  slain  Azba 
to-day,  perhaps  you  might  not  have  reached  Khreptyov  with- 
out accident.  I  will  return  in  an  instant,  and  meanwhile, 
Michael  will  entertain  you/' 

She  disappeared  and  the  little  knight,  who  had  already 
welcomed  Pan  Novovyeyski  advanced  to  Pani  Boska,  and 
said: 

"God  has  given  me  such  a  treasure  of  a  wife  that  not  only 
is  she  a  loving  domestic  companion  but  a  brave  comrade  in 
the  field.  At  her  behest  I  submit  myself  to  your  ladyship's 
commands." 

Pani  Boska  replied: 

"May  God  bless  her  in  everything  as  He  has  in  beauty;  I 
have  not  come  to  ask  for  hospitality  from  your  lordship,  but 
on  my  knees  to  implore  your  assistance  in  my  misfortune. 
Zosia,  accompany  me  also  on  your  knees  before  the  knight, 
for  if  he  cannot  help  us  no  one  can." 

Pani  Boska  then  knelt  down  and  the  lovely  Zosia  followed 
her  example,  both  weeping  bitterly  and  crying: 

"Save  us  knights!     Have  compassion  on  orphans!" 

A  throng  of  officers,  whose  curiosity  was  aroused  by  the 
sight  of  the  kneeling  women,  and  especially  by-  the  lovely 
Zosia,  approached;  the  little  knight  was  greatly  troubled  and 
raised  Pani  Boska,  and  led  her  to  a  seat. 

"For  God's  sake,  what  are  you  doing?"  he  cried.  "It  is 
rather  for  me  to  kneel  before  a  noble  woman.  Tell  me,  lady, 
how  I  can  help  you  and,  as  God  is  in  Heaven,  I  will  not  hesi- 
tate." 

"He  will  do  it;  for  my  part  I  offer  my  own  services.  I  am 
Zagloba,  and  that's  enough !"  cried  the  old  warrior  touched  by 
the  distress  of  the  two  women. 

Pani  Boska  then  signed  to  Zosia  who  hastily  took  a  letter 
from  her  bosom  and  handed  it  to  the  little  knight. 

He  looked  at  it  and  said: 

"From  the  Hetman!" 

He  then  broke  the  seal  and  began  to  read: 

"Most  dear  and  beloved  Volodiyovski ! — By  the  hand  of 
Pan  Bogush  I  send  you  my  true  affection  and  recommend- 
ations which  he  will  confide  to  you  in  person.  I  have 
scarcely  had  time  to  rest  from  my  fatigues  at  Yavorov  when 
another  matter  immediately  arises.  It  is  very  near  my  heart 
because  of  my  aifection  for  all  soldiers,  whom  if  I  forget  may 
the  Lord  forget  me!  Pan  Boska,  a  very  worthy  knight  and  a 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


235 


dear  companion  was  captured  by  the  horde  some  years  ago 
near  Kamenets.  I  have  afforded  shelter  to  his  wife  and 
daughter  in  Yavorov;  but  their  hearts  grieve  for  a  husband 
and  a  father  respectively.  I  wrote,  by  means  of  Pyotrovich, 
to  Pan  Zlotnitski,  our  resident  in  the  Crimea,  to  search  every- 
where for  Pan  Boska,  It  seems  that  he  was  found,  but  after- 
wards he  was  hidden  by  the  Tartars;  so  that  he  could  not  be 
released  with  the  rest  of  the  prisoners  and  he  is  now  doubt- 
less rowing  in  a  galley.  The  women  are  hopeless  and  in 
despair  and  have  ceased  to  trouble  me  with  their  entreaties, 
but  when  I  returned  lately  and  saw  that  their  sorrow  was  as 
sharp  as  ever  I  could  not  help  making  some  attempt  to  aid 
them.  You  are  in  the  district  and  I  know  have  formed 
brotherhood  with  several  Tartar  chiefs.  I  therefore  send  the 
ladies  to  you  and  pray  you  to  help  them.  Pyotrovich  will 
soon  be  going  to  the  Crimea.  Supply  him  with  letters  to  all 
your  brotherhood.  I  cannot  write  either  to  the  vizir  or  Khan, 
as  we  are  not  friendly,  and  moreover  I  am  afraid  that  if  I  did 
they  would  think  that  Boska  was  a  very  important  person- 
age, and  raise  the  ransom  beyond  all  reason  in  consequence 
Impress  upon  Pyotrovich  the  importance  of  the  matter  and 
order  him  not  to  return  without  Boska.  Communicate  also 
with  your  brothers,  as,  although  they  are  Infidels,  they  always 
keep  their  sworn  faith  and  must  hold  you  in  great  respect. 
Lastly,  do  what  you  think  best;  go  to  Rashkov  and  offer  to 
exchange  three  of  the  most  important  Tartars  for  Boska  if 
sent  back  alive.  Nobody  knows  their  ways  better  than  you 
do,  for  I  understand  that  you  have  already  managed  the  ran- 
som of  relatives.  God  bless  you,  and  I  will  love  you  more 
than  ever,  for  my  heart  will  cease  to  bleed  over  this  business. 
I  have  heard  that  all  is  quiet  in  your  command  in  Khreptyov. 
I  anticipated  that.  Only  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  Azba.  Pan 
Bogueh  will  give  you  all  the  news  about  public  affairs.  For 
God's  sake,  keep  an  attentive  ear  towards  Moldavia,  for  a 
great  invasion  is  certainly  coming.  Committing  Pani  Boska 
to  your  kindness  and  best  efforts,  I  subscribe  myself,  etc." , 

During  the  reading  of  this  letter  Pani  Boska's  tears  never 
ceased  to  flow  and  she  was  joined  by  Zosia  who  lifted  her  blue 
eyes  to  Heaven. 

Before  Pan  Michael  had  ended  Basia  came  running  in  in 
female  attire  and  at  the  sight  of  the  tears  of  the  ladies  began 
to  ask  anxiously  what  was  the  matter.  So  Pan  Michael  read 
the  letter  again  to  her,  and  after  listening  to  it  attentively 


236  /^AT    MICHAEL. 

she  immediately  and  eagerly  added  her  prayers  io  those  of  the 
Hetman  and  Paul  Boska. 

"The  Hetman  has  a  heart  of  gold/'  Basia  cried  as  she  em- 
braced her  husband,  "and  we  must  not  be  behindhand  with 
him,  dear  Michael.  Pani  Boska  shall  stay  with  us  until  her 
husband's  return. 

And  in  three  months  you  will  bring  him  back  from'  th2 
Crimea;  in  three  or  even  two;  eh?" 

"Or  to-morrow,  or  in  an  hour/7  said  Pan  Michael  jestingly. 

Then  he  turned  to  Pani  Boska: 

"Resolutions  are  sudden  with  my  wife,  you  see!" 

"God  bless  her  for  it,"  said  Pani  Boska.  "Zosia,  kiss  the 
hand  of  the  lady-commander." 

But  the  lady-commander  had  no  intention  of  giving  her 
hands  to  be  kissed;  she  again  embraced  Zosia,  for  they  had 
taken  a  liking  to  each  other  from  the  very  first. 

"Help  us,  noble  gentlemen,"  she  cried,  "help,  help!  and 
quickly  too." 

"Quickly,  for  her  head  is  on  fire,"  Zagloba  muttered. 

But  Basia,  shaking  her  golden  locks,  cried: 

"It  is  not  my  head,  but  the  hearts  of  these  ladies,  are  burn- 
ing with  grief." 

"No  one  will  oppose  you  in  your  kind  intentions,"  said 
Pan  Michael,  "but  we  must  first  hear  all  the  circumstances  of 
Pani  Boska's  story." 

"Zosia,  relate  everything  as  it  happened,  for  my  tears  pre- 
vent me,"  said  the  matron. 

Zosia  lowered  her  eyes  to  the  ground,  till  the  lids  entirely 
hid  them,  then  she  flushed  as  red  as  a  cherry,  not  knowing 
how  to  commence,  and  was  very  confused  at  having  to  talk  in 
the  presence  of  so  many  people. 

But  Basia  came  to  her  aid. 

"Zoska,  when  was  Pan  Boska  captured?" 

"Five  years  ago,  in  '67,"  Zosia  replied  in  a  faint  voice,  with- 
out lifting  her  long  lashes. 

And,  without  stopping  to  take  breath,  she  began  to  tell  the 
stoVy. 

"At  that  time,  forays  were  not  heard  of,  and  dear  papa's 
squadron  was  near  Panyovtsi.  Papa  with  Pan  Bulayovski 
was  looking  after  men  who  were  guarding  cattle  in  the  fields 
when  the  Tartars  came  along  the  Wallachian  road  and  cap- 
tured papa  with  Pan  Bulayovski;  but  Pan  Bulayovski  returned 
two  years  ago  and  papa  is  not  yet  with  us." 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


237 


Here  two  tiny  tears  began  to  trickle  down  Zosia's  red 
cheeks,  at  the  sight  of  which  Zagloba  was  greatly  moved  and 
exclaimed: 

"Poor  little  bird!  .  .  .  Never  fear  child,  papa  will  yet  ce- 
turn  and  dance  at  your  wedding." 

''But,  did  the  lietman  write  to  Pan  Zlotnitski,  by  Pyotro 
vich?"  asked  Pan  Michael. 

"The  Hetman  wrpte  about -papa  to  the  Sword-Bearer  oj 
Posen  by  Pan  Pyotrovich,"  continued  Zozia  and  the  Sword- 
Bearer  and  Pan  Pyotrovich  discovered  papa  with  Aga  Murza 
Bey." 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  I  know  that  Murza  Bey.  I  was  in 
^brotherhood'  with  his  brother,"  said  Pan  Michael.  Wouldn't 
he  release  Pan  Boska?" 

"The  Khan  issued  orders  for  papa's  release,  but  Murza  Bey 
is  harsh  and  cruel;  he  concealed  papa  and  told  Pan  Pyotrovich 
that  he  had  sold  him  into  Asia  long  before.  But  other  cap- 
tives told  Pan  Pyotrovich  that  it  wasn't  true,  and  that  the 
Murza  Bey  said  that  for  an  excuse,  so  that  he  might  ill-treat 
papa  all  the  longer,  for  of  all  the  Tartars,  there  is  none  so 
cruel  to  captives  as  he.  It  may  be  that  at  that  time  papa  was 
not  in  the  Crimea,  because  the  Murza  has  galleys  of  his  own, 
and  needs  rowers.  But  papa  certainly  had  not  been  sold,  for 
all  the  captives  said  that  the  Murza  would  rather  kill  a 
prisoner  than  sell  him." 

"God's  truth,"  cried  Pan  Mushalski,  "that  Murza  Aga  Bey 
is  notorious  throughout  the  Crimea.  He  is  a  very  wealthy 
Tartar,  but  extremely  bitter  against  our  people,  because  four 
of  his  brothers  fell  in  battle  against  us." 

"But  has  he  never  been  of  our  brotherhood?"  Pan  Michael 
inquired. 

"It  is  doubtful,"  cried  one  officer  after  another. 

"Explain  once  for  all  to  me,  what  that  brotherhood  is," 
said  Basia. 

"You  must  know,"  said  Zagloba,  "that  when  treaties  are 
made  on  the  conclusion  of  a  war,  members  of  both  armies 
pay  each  other  visits  and  become  friends.  It  then  happens 
that  an  officer  will  become  attached  to  a  Murza,  and  a  Murza 
to  an  officer;  then  they  vow  a  life  friendship  to  each  other, 
which  they  term  Brotherhood.  The  more  famous  a  man  is, 
such  as  Michael,  or  I,  or  Pan  Rushchyts,  who  is  now  in  com- 
mand in  Raslikov,the  more  eagerly  hisbrotherhood  is  sought: 
It  is  evident  that  such  a  man  will  not  form  brotherhood  with 


238  J^V    MICHAEL. 

a  common  man,  but  will  only  seek  for  it  among  the  most 
celebrated  Murzas.  The  ceremony  is  as  follows:  They  pour 
water  over  their  sabres  and  swear  mutual  friendship.  Do 
you  comprehend?'' 

"And  what  if  war  ensues?" 

"They  can  fight  in  a  general  Avar,  but  if  they  meet  face  to 
face,  or  come  across  each  other  in  skirmishing,  they  greet  one 
another  and  part  amicably.  Moreover,  if  one  of  them  be- 
comes a  captive,  the  other  is  forced  to  do  all  he  can  to  allevi- 
ate his  lot,  and  if  it  comes  to  the  worst,  to  ransom  him;  in- 
deed there  have  been  some  cases  in  which  these  brothers  have 
shared  their  property  with  each  other.  When  it  is  a  matter 
of  friends  or  acquaintances,  or  of  discovering  someone,  one 
brother  goes  to  another;  and  in  justice  we  must  confess  that 
no  race  keeps  its  oaths  more  exactly  than  the  Tartars.  Their 
word  is  everything,  and  you  can  surely  count  on  such  a 
friend." 

"But  lias  Michael  many  of  these?" 

"I  have  three  powerful  Murzas,"  replied  Pan  Michael;  "one 
of  them  dates  from  Lubni  days.  I  begged  him  from  Prince 
Yeremy  on  one  occasion.  His  name  is  Aga  Bey  and  even 
now,  if  it  were  necessary,  he  would  lay  down  his  life  for  my 
sake.  The  other  two  are  equally  trustworthy." 

"Ah!"  Basia  cried,  "I  should  like  to  form  brotherhood  with 
the  Khan  in  person  and  free  the  whole  of  the  prisoners." 

"He  would  not  mind  that,"  said  Zakloba,  "but  who  can  tell 
what  he  would  demand  in  return." 

"AlloAV  me,  gentlemen,"  said  Pan  Michael,  "let  us  consider 
what  is  to  be  done.  Listen  now,  we  have  intelligence  from 
Kamcnets  that  in  two  weeks  at  the  latest  Pyotrovich,  will 
arrive  with  a  large  following.  He  will  go  to  the  Crimea  to 
ransom  several  Armenian  merchants  from  Kamenets,  who 
were  plundered  and  captured  when  another  Khan  came  into 
power.  Seferovich,  the  brother  of  Pretor,  was  one  of  the 
sufferers.  They  are  all  very  rich  and  money  is  no  object,  so 
that  Pyotrovich  will  go  well  provided.  He  is  not  in  any 
danger,  for  in  the  first  place,  winter  is  approaching  and  this 
is  not  the  season  for  chambuls,  and  in  the  second,  he  will  be 
accompanied  by  Naviragh,  the  envoy  of  the  Patriarch  of 
TTzmiadzin,  and  the  two  Anardrats  of  Kaffa,  who  are  sup? 
plied  with  safe-conducts  by  the  young  Khan.  I  will  give  let? 
ters  to  Pyotrovich  for  the  natives  of  the  Commonwealth  and 
for  my  ^brothers/  Besides,  gentlemen,  you  are  awarg  that 


PAN   MICHAEL.  239 

Pan  Rushchyts,  the  commander  at  Kashkov,  has  relations 
among  the  Horde,  who  were  captured  in  early  youth,  and 
have  become  thoroughly  Tartar,  and  have  risen  to  office. 
These  will  all  move  heaven  and  earth,  and  will  attempt  to 
negotiate;  in  case  the  Murza  proves  stubborn  they  will  stir  up 
against  him  the  Khan  himself,  or  perhaps  they  will  find  some 
means  of  privately  wringing  his  neck;  consequently,  I  hope 
that  if,  by  God's  grace,  Pan  Boska  is  still  alive,  I  shall  get 
possession  of  him  in  a  month  or  two,  in  accordance  with  the 
commands  of  the  Hetman  and  my  immediate  superior,  here 
present."  (Here  Pan  Michael  bowed  to  his  wife). 

His  commander  sprang  to  embrace  the  little  knight  again. 
Pani  and  Panna  Boska  clasped  their  hands  and  returned 
thanks  to  God  for  having  permitted  them  to  meet  with  such 
kind  people.  They  both  become  very  cheerful. 

"If  only  the  old  Khan  were  alive,"  said  Pan  Nyenashinyets, 
"it  would  be  much  easier,  for  he  was  greatly  attached  to  us, 
and  they  tell  the  contrary  about  the  young  one.  In  fact, 
those  very  Armenian  merchants  who  are  the  objects  of  Pan 
Zakhar  Pyrotrovich's  journey,  were  taken  prisoners  in 
Bakhche-Serai  under  the  young  Khan,  and  most  likely  by  his 
orders." 

"The  young  Khan  will  alter  as  the  old  one  did,  who  was  the 
most  inveterate  foe  of  the  Poles  before  he  came  to  be  con- 
vinced of  our  honesty,"  said  Zagloba,  "I  know  this  better  than 
any  one,  for  I  was  his  captive  for  seven  years." 

Then  he  took  a  seat  beside  Pani  Boska. 

"Let  the  sight  of  me  comfort  your  ladyship.  Seven  years 
is  no  joke,  and  yet,  I  came  back  and  destroyed  so  many  of 
those  dog-brothers,  that  I  despatched  at  least  two  of  them  to 
hell  for  every  single  day  of  my  captivity,  and  who  can  say 
that  there  are  not  three  or  four  for  each  Sunday  and  holiday, 
eh?" 

"Seven  years!"  repeated  Pani  Boska  with  a  sigh. 

"May  I  die,  if  I  exaggerated  it  by  a  day.  Seven  years  in 
the  very  palace  of  the  Khan,"  asserted  Zagloba,  winking 
n\ysteriously.  "And  you  must  know  that  the  young  Kahn  is 
my  .  .  ." 

Here  he  whispered  something  into  Pani  Boska's  ear  and 
burst  into  a  loud  "Ha!  ha!  ha!"  and  began  to  rub  his  knees. 
At  last  he  slapped  Pani  Boska  on  the  knees,  and  cried: 

"Those  were  good  days,  weren't  they?  In  youth,  every 
man  you  met  was  a  foe;  and  every  day  saw  a  fresh  frolic,  eh?" 


240  PAN   MICHAEL. 

The  sedate  lady  was  greatly  confused  and  drew  oack  some- 
what from  the  jovial  knight;  the  younger  ladies  lowered  their 
eyes,  readily  imagining  that  the  frolics  to  which  Pan  Zagloba 
was  referring  were  subversive  of  their  natural  modesty,  more 
especially  since  the  soldiers  burst  out  laughing. 

"It  will  be  necessary  to  send  Pan  Eushchyts  immediately," 
Baid  Basia,  "so  that  Pan  Pyrotrovich  may  find  the  letters 
ready  for  him  in  Rashkov." 

"Make  haste  with  the  whole  business,  gentlemen,"  added 
Pan  Bogush,  "while  it  is  still  winter,  for  in  the  first  place, 
there  are  no  chambuls  about,  and  the  roads  are  safe;  and  in 
the  second,  God  only  knows  what  may  happen  in  the  Spring." 

"Has  the  Hetman  any  news  from  Tsarograd?"  asked  Pan 
Michael. 

"He  has.  But  we  must  talk  of  that  in  private.  Haste  is 
needed  in  bringing  to  an  end  the  business  regarding  those 
chiefs.  When  will  Mellekhovich  return?  because  a  great 
deal  depends  on  him." 

"All  he  has  to  do  is  to  kill  the  remainder  of  the  marauders 
and  then  bury  the  dead.  He  ought  to  be  back  to-night  or 
to-morrow  morning.  I  ordered  him  to  bury  only  our  men, 
not  Azba's,  for  winter  is  close  at  hand  and  there  is  no  danger 
of  infection;  besides  the  wolves  will  get  rid  of  them." 

"It  is  the  Hetman's  desire,"  said  Pan  Bogush,  "that  no  ob- 
stacles should  be  placed  in  the  way  of  Mellekhovich's  work. 
He  is  to  go  to  Rashkov  as  often  as  he  desires.  The  Hetman 
also  requests  that  he  should  be  trusted  completely,  for  his 
devotion  is  sure.  He  is  a  great  warrior,  and  may  be  very 
useful  to  us." 

"Let  him  go  to  Rashkov  and  wherever  he  likes,"  the  little 
knight  replied.  "Now  that  we  have  destroyed  Azba,  I  have 
no  great  need  of  him.  Till  the  first  grass  springs  no  large 
body  will  appear  now." 

"Is  Azba  destroyed,  then?"  asked  Pan  Novovyeyski. 

"So  terribly  cut  up,  that  I  doubt  if  twenty-five  men  es- 
caped, and  even  they  will  be  captured  one  by  one,  even  if 
Mellekhovich  has  not  already  caught  them." 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  that,"  said  Novovyeyski,  "for  it 
will  now  be  possible  to  travel  to  Rashkov  in  safety." 

Then  he  turned  to  Basia: 

"We  shall  be  able  to  take  the  letters,  which  her  ladyship 
here  has  spoken  of,  to  Pan  Rushchyts." 

"Thank  you,"  Basia  replied,  "here  there  are  frequent  op- 
portunities, for  we  send  couriers  express." 


PAN   MICHAEL.  241 

"Communication  must  be  kept  up  between  all  the  com- 
mands," explained  Pan  Michael.  "But  are  you  really  going 
to  Rashkov  with  this  lovely  maiden?" 

"Oh,  she  is  no  beauty,  but  only  a  common  puss,  noble  bene- 
factor," said  Novovyeyski,  "and  I  am  going  to  Rashkov  be- 
cause my  rascal  of  a  son  is  serving  there  under  the  banner  of 
Pan  Rushchyts.  It  is  nearly  ten  years  since  he  ran  away 
from  home,  and  he  knocks  at  my  paternal  forgiveness  with 
letters  only." 

Pan  Michael  almost  clapped  his  hands. 

"I  guessed  immediately  that  you  were  the  father  of  Pan 
Adam,  and  I  was  going  to  ask  you,  but  we  were  so  absorbed 
with  grief  for  Pani  Boska. .  I  guessed  it  immediately  because 
your  features  resemble  one  another.  So  he  is  your  son.  ?" 

"So  his  departed  mother  stated,  and  as  she  was  a  virtuous 
woman,  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  it." 

"I  am  doubly  glad  to  have  you  for  my  guest.  But  for 
Heaven's  sake  don't  call  your  son  a  rascal,  because  he  is  a 
famous  soldier,  and  a  worthy  cavalier,  who  reflects  the  highest 
honor  on  your  lordship.  Don't  you  know  that  he  is  the  best 
fighter  in  the  company,  next  to  Pan  Rushchyts.  Don't  you 
know  that  the  Hetman  regards  him  as  the  eye  of  his  head. 
He  is  entrusted  with  independent  commands  and  has  carried 
them  all  out  with  the  greatest  credit." 

Pan  Novovyeyski  blushed  with  pleasure. 

"Noble  Colonel,"  he  said,  "many  a  time  a  father  only  finds 
fault  with  his  child  for  the  sake  of  hearing  somebody  contra- 
dict him,  and  I  think  that  a  parent's  heart  cannot  be  more 
greatly  pleased  than  by  such  contradiction.  I  have  already 
heard  reports  of  Adam's  good  service,  but  this  is  the  first  time 
on  which  I  am  really  satisfied,  hearing  as  I  do,  the  confirm- 
ation of  these  reports  from  such  celebrated  lips.  They  say 
that  not  only  is  he  a  valiant  warrior,  but  a  steady  character, 
which  is  a  great  surprise  to  me,  as  he  was  always  a  tempest. 
The  little  rascal  always  had  a  taste  for  war  from  his  earliest 
years,  and  the  proof  is  that  he  was  only  a  boy  when  he  ran 
away  from  home.  If  I  could  have  caught  him  then,  I  would 
not  have  let  him  off.  But  I  must  now,  otherwise  he  would 
hide  from  me  for  another  ten  years,  and  I  am  an  old  man,  and 
lonely  without  him." 

"And  hasn't  he  been  home  for  so  many  years?" 

"I  forbade  him.  But  I  have  had  enough  of  that,  and  now, 
since  he  is  in  service  and  cannot  come  to  me,  I  am  going  to 
16 


242 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


him.  I  had  intended  to  ask  both  of  your  graces  to  afford  a 
shelter  to  this  maiden  while  I  proceeded  by  myself  to 
.Rashkov,  but  since  you  say  that  everything  is  safe,  I  will 
take  her  with  me;  she  is  curious  to  see  the  world,  the  magpie. 
And  so  she  shall." 

"And  let  people  look  at  her,"  Zagloba  interrupted. 

"Ah,  there  wouldn't  be  anything  to  look  at,"  said  the 
maiden,  whose  dark  eyes  and  lips  pouting  as  if  to  be  kissed 
seemed  to  assert  the  contrary. 

"An  ugly  puss,  nothing  but  a  puss,"  cried  Pan  Novovy- 
eyski.  "But  if  she  were  to  see  a  handsome  officer,  something 
might  occur,  and  so  I  rather  chose  to  bring  her  along  than  to 
leave  her  behind,  particularly  as  it  is  dangerous  for  a  girl  to 
be  alone  at  home.  But  if  I  go  alone  to  Rashkov  I  advise  her 
ladyship  to  order  her  to  be  tied  up  with  a  cord,  or  else  she 
will  get  skittish." 

"I  was  just  the  same,"  said  Basia. 

"They  gave  her  a  distaff  to  spin  with,"  said  Zagloba,  "she 
took  it  for  a  partner  to  dance  with,  as  she  hadn't  anyone 
better.  But  you're  a  jovial  fellow,  Pan  Novovyeyski.  Basia, 
I  should  like  to  have  a  passage  or  two  with  Pan  Novovyeyski, 
for  sometimes  I  am  also  fond  of  a  jest.  .  .  .  '' 

In  the  meanwhile,  before  they  had  served  supper,  the  door 
opened  and  Mellekhovich  came  in.  At  first  Pan  Novovyeyski 
did  not  notice  him,  as  he  was  talking  to  Zagloba,  but  Eva  saw 
him  and  suddenly  her  cheeks  flamed  and  then  she  grew  pale. 

"Commandant,"  said  Mellekhovich  to  Michael,  "those  men 
were  captured  according  to  your  orders." 

"Well,  where  are  they?" 

"I  had  them  hanged  according  to  orders." 

"Well  done,  and  have  your  men  returned?" 

"Some  of  them  stayed  to  bury  the  bodies,  the  others  are 
with  me." 

At  this  moment,  Pan  Novovyeyski  lifted  his  head  and  his 
face  betrayed  intense  surprise. 

"For  God's  sake,  wrhat  do  I  see?"  he  cried. 

Then  he  arose  and  advanced  towards  Mellekhovich  and 
cried: 

"Azya,  what  are  you  doing  here,  you  villain?" 

He  raised  his  hand  to  seize  the  Tartar  by  the  throat.  But 
suddenly  a  change  came  over  Mellekhovich  just  as  if  a  hand- 
full  of  powder  were  cast  into  the  flames;  he  grew  as  pallid  as 
a  corpse,  and  seizing  Novovyeyski's  hands  in  a  grasp  of  iron, 
Jie  exclaimed: 


PAX   MICHAEL. 


243 


"I  don't  know  you;  who  are  you?" 

And  he  pushed  him  so  violently  that  Novovyeyski  stag- 
gered into  the  middle  of  the  room. 

For  some  moments  his  rage  prevented  him  from  uttering 
a  word;  hut,  recovering  his  breath,  he  cried: 

"Noble  Colonel,  this  is  my  man,  and  moreover,  a  runaway. 
He  was  in  my  house  from  his  infancy.  The  villain  denies  it! 
He  is  my  man.  Eva,  who  is  he?  Speak!" 

"Azya!"  cried  Panna  Eva,  trembling  all  over. 

Mellekhovich  did  not  even  glance  at  her;  with  his  eyes  fast- 
enedTon  Novovyeyski,  and  with  quivering  nostrils,  he  glared 
at  the  old  nohle  with  unspeakable  hate,  grasping  the  handle 
of  his  knife. 

At  the  same  time  his  moustaches  began  to  quiver  and  be- 
neath them  gleamed  white  teeth  like  those  of  an  enraged 
wild  beast. 

The  officers  stood  round  in  a  circle:  Basia  darted  in  be- 
tween Mellekhovich  and  Novovyeyski. 

"What  does  this  mean  ?"  she  asked  with  frowning  brow. 

Her  presence  somewhat  quieted  the  disturbance. 

"Commandant,  this  is  my  man,"  said  Novovyeyski,  "by 
name,  Azya,  and  a  runaway.  In  my  youth  I  was  serving  in 
the  Ukraine,  I  found  him  half  dead  in  the  steppe  and  took 
him.  He  is  a  low  Tartar.  Twenty  years  he  lived  in  my  house 
and  was  educated  with  my  son.  When  my  son  ran  away  this 
man  helped  me  in  managing  my  land,  till  he  wanted  to  make 
love  to  Eva,  when  I  had  him  flogged  and  he  ran  away.  What 
name  does  he  bear  here?" 

"Mellekhovich." 

"That's  an  assumed  name;  he  is  called  Azya,  and  nothing 
else.  He  says  he  does  not  know  me;  but  I  know  him,  and  so 
does  Evukha."1 

"For  God's  sake!  your  lordship's  son  has  often  seen  him," 
eaid  Basia,  "why  didn't  he  recognize  him?" 

"Perhaps  my  son  might  not,  for  they  were  both  fifteen  years 
of  age  when  he  ran  away  from  home,  and  this  man  stayed  six 
years  longer  with  me,  during  which  he  altered  considerably, 
growing  up  and  getting  a  moustache.  But  Evukha  knew 
him  immediately.  Noble  sirs,  you  will  more  readily  believe  a 
citizen  than  this  waif  from  the  Crimea!" 

"Pan  Mellekhovich  is  one  of  the  Hetman's  officers,"  said 
Basia.  "We  can't  interfere  with  him." 

l  Evka,  Evukha ;  diminutives  of  Eva. 


244 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


"Allow  me,  let  me  question  him.  Let  us  also  hear  th« 
other  side,"  said  the  little  knight." 

But  Pan  Novovyeyski  was  burning  with  rage. 

"Pan  Mellekhovich!  what  sort  of  a  Pan  is  he?  My  servant 
boy,  who  has  concealed  himself  under  a  strange  name.  To- 
morrow, I'll  make  my  dog  the  keeper  of  that  Pan,  and  the 
day  after,  I'll  give  orders  for  that  Pan  to  be  beaten  with 
clubs.  And  the  Hetman  himself  cannot  prevent  me,  for  I 
am  a  Noble,  and  know  my  rights." 

To  this,  Pan  Michael  replied,  sharply,  as  his  lips  quivered: 

"I  am  not  only  a  noble,  but  a  Colonel,  and  I  also  know  my 
rights.  You  can  make  the  demand  for  your  man  by  legal 
process,  and  appeal  to  the  Hetman's  jurisdiction,  but  I  com- 
mand here  and  no  one  else." 

Pan  Novovyeyski  immediately  moderated  his  tone,  remem- 
bering that  he  was  talking  not  only  to  a  military  commander, 
but  his  own  son's  superior  officer,  and  moreover,  to  the  most 
celebrated  knight  in  the  Commonwealth. 

"Pan  Colonel,"  he  said  more  mildly,  "I  will  not  seize  him 
against  your  will,  but  I  assert  my  rights,  and  I  ask  you  to  be- 
lieve me." 

"Mellekhovich,  what  have  you  to  say  to  this?"  asked  Pan 
Michael. 

The  Tartar  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  floor,  and  was  silent. 

"We  all  know  that  your  name  is  Azya,"  continued  Pan 
Michael, 

"There  are  other  proofs  to  be  looked  for,"  said  Novov- 
yeyski "if  he  is  my  man,  there  are  two  fish  tatooed  in  blue  on 
his -breast." 

When  he  heard  this,  Pan  Nyenashinyets  opened  his  eyes 
and  mouth  to  their  full  extent;  and  then  he  clutched  at  his 
hair  and  cried: 

"Azya,  son  of  Tukhay  Bey!" 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  him;  he  trembled  all  over,  as  if 
all  his  wounds  had  re-opened,  and  he  repeated: 

"That  is  my  captive;  that  is  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey.  As 
God  lives,  it  is  he." 

But  the  young  Tartar  proudly  raised  his  head  and  cast  a 
glance  like  that  of  a  wild-cat  on  those  present  and,  suddenly 
tearing  apart  the  dress  that  covered  his  broad  breast,  he  cried: 

"Here  are  the  blue  tatooed  fish.  I  am  the  son  of  Tukhay 
Bey/' 


CHAPTER  YIIL 

Everybody  was  silent,  so  great  was  the  impression  made  by 
the  name  of  that  terrible  warrior.  Tukhay  Bey  was  that  man, 
who,  together  with  the  dreaded  Khmyelnitski,  had  shaken  the 
Commonwealth  to  its  foundations;  he  had  shed  a  whole  ocean 
of  Polish  blood;  he  had  trampled  under  the  hoofs  of  his  horses 
the  Ukraine,  Volhynia.,  Podolia,.  and  the  lands  of  Galicia;  he 
had  destroyed  towns  and  fortresses,  he  had  wasted  villages 
with  fire,  and  taken  captive  tens  of  thousands  of  people.  The 
son  of  that  man  was  now  standing  in  the  presence  of  the  gar- 
rison of  Khreptyov,  saying  to  their  faces,  "On  my  breast  are 
blue  fish;  I  am  Azya,  bone  of  the  bone  of  Tukhay  Bey!"  But 
at  that  time  people  held  great  blood  in  such  high  respect,  that 
notwithstanding  the  terror  which  must  have  been  roused  in 
each  soldier's  heart  by  the  name  of  the  celebrated  Murza, 
Mellekhovich  now  grew  before  their  eyes  as  if  he  had  assumed 
the  whole  of  his  father's  greatness. 

They  all  looked  at  him  in  amazement,  particularly  the 
women,  who  are  always  greatly  charmed  by  a  sense  of  mystery; 
moreover,  as  though  his  confession  had  raised  him  in  his  own 
eyes,  he  became  more  haughty  and  did  not  lower  his  head  in 
the  least,  but  finally  said: 

"That  noble,"  pointing  at  Novovyeyski,  says  that  I  am  his 
man,  that  is  true,  but  I  reply,  'My  father  set  on  horseback 
better  men  than  he  is/  He  also  says  truly  that  I  was  with 
him,  for  it  was  so,  and  beneath  his  rods  my  back  streamed 
with  blood,  which,  as  God  lives,  I  shall  not  forget.  To  escape 
his  pursuit  I  assumed  the  name  of  Mellekhovich.  But  now, 
although  I  might  have  gone  to  the  Crimea,  I  am  serving  this 
country  with  my  blood  and  health,  and  no  one  is  ovor  me  but 
the  Hetman.  My  father  was  related  to  the  Khan,  nml  luxury 
and  riches  awaited  me  in  the  Crimea,  but  I  despised  them  and 
stayed  here,  for  I  love  this  country,  and  the  Hetman,  and  all 
who  have  never  treated  me  with  contempt." 

As  he  ended  he  bowed  to  Pan  Michael  and  then  bowed  so 
low  to  Basia,  that  his  head  almost  touched  his  knees,  and 

(943) 


246  PAN   MICHAEL. 

then  without  another  glance  at  any  one  he  put  his  sabre 
under  his  arm  and  left. 

For  some  moments  the  silence  was  unbroken.  Zagloba  was 
the  first  to  speak. 

"Aha!  where  is  Pan  Snitko?  Didn't  I  say  that  a  wolf 
looked  out  of  the  eyes  of  that  Azya,  and  isn't  he  the  son  of  a 
wolf?" 

"The  son  of  a  lion,"  said  Pan  Michael,  "and  who  knows 
that  he  doesn't  take  after  his  father?" 

"By  the  living  God,  gentlemen,  did  you  see  how  his  teeth 
gleamed,  just  like  old  Tukhay's  used  to  when  he  was  in  a 
rage,"  said  Pan  Mushalski.  "That  alone  would  have  made 
me  recognize  him,  for  I  often  saw  old  Tukhay." 

"Not  so  often  as  I  did,"  answered  Zagloba. 

"I  understand  now,"  said  Bogush,  "why  the  Lipkovs  and 
Cheremis  are  so  devoted  to  him.  They  regard  the  name  of 
Tukhay  as  sacred.  By  the  living  God!  If  that  man  wanted 
to  do  so,  he  could  carry  over  every  Tartar  to  the  service  of  the 
Sultan,  and  give  us  much  trouble." 

"He  won't  do  that,"  replied  Pan  Michael,  "for  it  is  true,  as 
he  has  said,  that  he  loves  the  country  and  the  Hetman;  or  he 
would  not  be  serving  with  us  when  he  is  able  to  go  to  the 
Crimea  and  swim  in  luxury  there.  This  he  has  not  enjoyed 
with  us." 

"He  wont  do  it,"  answered  Pan  Bogush,  "for,  if  he  had 
wanted  to,  he  could  have  done  so  already,  there  was  nothing  to 
hinder  him." 

"On  the  contrary,"  added  Nyenashinyets,  "it  is  my  opinion 
that  he  will  lure  back  to  the  Gommonwealth  the  traitorous 
captains  who  deserted  it. 

"Pan  Novovyeyski,"  suddenly  cried  Zagloba,  "if  you  had 
known  that  he  was  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  perhaps  then — 
perhaps — eh '  .  .  .  'J 

"Instead  of, three  hundred  I  should  have  ordered  him  to 
receive  a  thousand  and  three  hundred  blows.  May  the  light- 
ning strike  me  if  I  wouldn't  do  it.  Gentlemen,  it's  a  wonder 
to  me  that,  as  he  was  Tukhay  Bey's  cub,  he  didn't  run  away 
10  the  Crimea.  It  must  be  that  he  did  not  discover  it  long 
before,  for  he  knew  nothing  about  it  while  he  was  with  me. 
If's  a  great  surprise  to  me,  I  assure  you,  but  for  Heaven's 
seke,  don't  trust  him.  Gentlemen,  I  have  known  him  longer 
taaa  you  heve^  and  I  will  only  say  this;  the  devil  i&  not  so 


PAN   MICHAEL.  247 

cunning,  a  mad  dog  is  not  so  dangerous,  nor  a  wolf  so  savage 
and  cruel  as  that  man.  He  will  make  fools  of  you  all  yet."1 

"You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  said  Mushal- 
ski,  "we  have  all  seen  him  under  fire  at  Kalnik,  Uman, 
Bratslav,  and  on  a  hundred  other  occasions." 

"He  will  not  forget  his  own  people,  he  will  have  revenge," 

"But  he  slew  Azba's  marauders  to-day.  How  do  you  ac- 
count for  that?" 

Meanwhile  Basia  was  all  aflame,  for  the  history  of  Melle- 
khovich  strongly  interested  her,  but  she  wanted  such  a  begin- 
ning to  have  an  appropriate  conclusion  and  so,  nudging  Evka 
Xovovyeyski,  she  whispered  in  her  .ear: 

"But  you  were  in  love  with,  him,  Evka,  confess  now,  don't 
deny  it,  you  were  in  love  with  him!  You  are  still,  aren't  you? 
I'm  sure  you  are;  be  frank  with  me,  whom  can  you  confide 
in,  if  not  me,  a  woman,  too?  His  blood  is  almost  royal.  The 
Hetman  will  procure  for  him  not  one,  but  ten  nobilities.  Pan 
Novovyeyski  will  not  make  any  opposition.  Of  course  Azya 
is  still  in  love  with  you!  I  am  sure  of  it;  I  know,  I  know! 
Fear  not!  he  has  confidence  in  me.  I  will  question  him  im- 
mediately, he  will  confess  to  me  without  .being  put  to  the 
torture.  You  were  desperately  in  love  with  him,  and  you  still 
love  him,  don't  you?" 

Evka  was  half  dazed.  When  Azya  had  first  made  love  to 
her  she  was  almost  a  child,  and  afterwards  she  had  not  seen 
him  for  several  years,  and  had  ceased  to  think  of  him.  She 
only  remembered  him  as  a.  passionate  youth  who  was  half- 
companion  to  her  brother  and  half-servant.  But  now,  she 
saw  him  again;  he  now  appeared  handsome,  and  wild  as  a 
falcon,  a  great  warrior  and,  moreover,  the  son  of  a  princely 
though  foreign  line,  consequently  young  Azya  looked  alto- 
gether different;  and  she  was  stunned,  though  at  the  same 
time  charmed  and  dazzled  at  his  appearance.  Memories  of 
him  came  back  to  her  as  in  a  dream.  She  could  not  fall  in 
love  with  him  at  a  moment's  notice,  but  in  an  instant  she 
felt  her  heart  quite  ready  to  love  him. 

Basin  being  unable  to  question  her  closely  in  company, 
took  her  and  Zosia  Boska  into  an  alcove  and  again  began  to 
insist: 

"Evka,  quick,  tell  me  instantly,  do  you  love  him?" 

The  blood  flamed  in  Evka's  face.     She  was  a  hot-blooded 

*  Literally,  He  will  pear  tallow  under  your  skin. 


24g  PAX   MICHAEL. 

brunette  with  dark  hair  and  eyes,  and  at  the  least  mention 
of  love,  the  blood  would  flush  her  cheeks. 

'fEvkfr!"  reiterated  Basia  for  the  tenth  time,  "do  you  love 
him?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Panna  JSTovovyeyski  answered,  after  paus- 
ing a  moment. 

"But  you  don't  deny  it:  ah!  I  know!  Don't  hesitate,  I  was 
the  first  to  tell  Michael  that  I  loved  him;  there  was  no  harm 
in  it,  and  it  was  a  good  thing.  You  must  have  been  desper- 
ately in  love  with  each  other  long  ago.  Ah!  I  comprehend 
it  all  now.  It  is  pining  for  you  that  has  always  made  him 
so  gloomy,  he  has  gone  about  like  a  wolf.  The  poor  soldier 
has  almost  wasted  away;  what  happened  between  you?  Tell 
me!" 

"He  told  me  in  the  storehouse  that  he  loved  me,"  whispered 
Evka. 

"In  the  storehouse!    .    .    .    And  what  then?" 

"Then  he  caught  me  in  his  arms  and  began  to  kiss  me," 
she  continued  in  a  still  lower  tone. 

"Haven't  I  found  him  out,  that  Mellekhovich!  and  what 
did  you  do?" 

"I  was  afraid  to  scream." 

"Afraid  to  scream!  Zoska!  Do  you  hear  that?  .  .  .  When 
were  your  amours  discovered?" 

"Father  came  in  and  he  immediately  struck  at  him  with  an 
axe;  then  he  whipped  me  and  ordered  him  such  a  beating 
that  he  wasn't  able  to  get  out  of  his  bed  for  a  fortnight." 

Here  Panna  Novovyeyski  began  to  cry,  partly  with  grief 
and  partly  with  shame.  On  seeing  it,  the  tender-hearted 
Zosia  Boska's  dark  blue  eyes  filled  with  tears  and  Ba^ia 
immediately  tried  to  console  Evka. 

"It  will  all  come  right,  I'll  stake  my  head  on  it.  And  I'll 
make  Michael  and  Pan  Zagloba  help  us  in  the  matter.  I'll 
persuade  them,  don't  fear.  Pan  Zagloba's  wits  can  overcome 
everything,  you  don't  know  him,  don't  cry,  Evka  dear,  supper 
is  ready."  .  .  . 

Mellekhovich  did  not  appear  at  supper.  He  was  sitting 
before  the  fire  in  his  own  room,  warming  gorzalka  and  mead, 
pouring  it  into  a  smaller  cup  and  drinking  it  while  he 
munched  some  dry  biscuits.  Later,  during  the  evening,  Pan 
Bogrush  came  to  talk  over  the  news. 

The  Tartar  immediately  gave  him  a  chair  lined  with  sheep- 
skin, and  asked,  as  he  placed  before  him  a  hot  pitcher  of 
liquor; 


7M.V    MICHAEL. 


249 


'•'Does  Pan  Novovyeyski  still  want  to  make  me  his  slave?" 

"There  is  no  longer  any  talk  of  that,"  replied  the  Lieuten- 
ant-Governor  of  iNovgorod.  "Pan  Nyenashinyets  has  the 
first  claim  to  you,  but  he  doesn't  care  anything  about  it,  be- 
cause either  his  sister  must  be  dead  by  this  time,  or  else  has 
no  desire  to  change  her  lot.  Pan  Novovyeyski  had  no  idea 
who  you  were  when  he  had  you  punished  for  making  love  to 
his  daughter.  ISTow  he  seems  halt'-stunned,  for  although  your 
father  wrought  infinite  evil  on  this  land,  still  he  was  a  famous 
warrior,  and  blood  is  blood.  As  God  is  in  heaven,  no  one  will 
raise  a  finger  against  you  as  long  as  you  serve  the  country 
faithfully,  particularly  as  you  have  friends  in  all  directions/' 

"Why  shouldn't  I  serve  it  faithfully?"  replied  Azya.  "My 
father  fought  against  you,  but  he  was  an  Infidel,  while  I  am  a 
professed  Christian." 

"That's  just  it,  just  it!  You  can't  return  to  the  Crimea 
without  giving  up  your  faith,  which  entails  giving  up  your 
salvation,  and  so,  no  earthly  riches,  dignities,  nor  rank  could 
compensate  you.  The  truth  is  that  you  ought  to  be  grateful 
both  to  Pan  Nyenashinyets  and  Pan  Novovyeyski:  the  former 
for  bringing  you  away  from  the  Infidels,  and  the  latter  for 
bringing  you  up  in  the  true  faith." 

"I  know/'  said  Azya,  "that  I  ought  to  be  grateful  to  them, 
and  I  will  do  my  best  to  repay  them.  You  have  truly  re- 
marked that  here  I  have  found  a  great  many  benefactors." 

"You  say  that  as  if  you  had  a  bitter  taste  in  your  mouth, 
but  reckon  up  your  friends"  to  yourself." 

"First  of  all  come  his  Highness  the  Hetman,  and  yourself, 
I  will  repeat  that  until  I  die.  I  know  not  what  others  there 
may  be."  .  .  . 

"How  about  the  commander  of  this  post?  Do  you  think 
that  he  would  give  you  up  to  anyone,  even  if  yon  were  not 
the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey?  And  then,  Pani  Yolodiyovski,  I 
heard  what  she  said  about  you  at  supper.  .  .  .  Even 
before  that  she  took  your  part  when  Novovyeyski  recognized 
you.  Pan  Michael  would  do  anything  in  the  world  for  her, 
why  he  can't  see  anything  beside  her,  and  no  sister  couFd  feel 
more  affectionately  towards  a  brother  than  she  does  towards 
you.  Nothing  but  your  name  was  on  her  lips  all  through 
supper."  .  .  . 

The  young  Tartar  suddenly  lowered  his  head  and  began  to 
blow  into  his  cup  of  hot  liquor,  and  as  he  protruded  his  bluish 
lips  to  blow,  his  face  became  so  characteristically  Tartar,  that 
Pan  Bogush  cried: 


250  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"By  Heavens!  you  have  no  idea  how  exactly  you  resembled 
the  old  Tukhay  Bey  a  moment  ago.  It  surpasses  imagination. 
I  knew  him  very  well.  I  saw  him  in  the  Khan's  palace,  and 
in  the  field,  and  was  in  his  camp  twenty  times  at  the  very 
least." 

"May  God  bless  the  just  and  may  the  pestilence  rot  the 
unjust!"  cried  Azya.  "The  Hetman's  health!" 

Pan  Bogush  drank  the  toast  and  said: 

"Health  and  long  life!  It  is  true  that  we  who  are  with 
him  are  only  a  handful,  but  we  are  true  soldiers.  God  grant 
that  we  shall  not  be  mastered  by  those  scoundrels  whose  only 
ability  is  to  intrigue  at  the  primary  diets  and  accuse  the 
Hetman  of  treason  to  the  King.  The  villains!  Night  and 
day  we  stand  with  our  faces  to  the  foe  and  they  gather  around 
the  kneading-tubs  that  are  filled  with  chopped  meat  and  cab- 
bage and  millet  and  beat  on  them  with  their  spoons.  That's 
all  they  do.  The  Hetman  sends  messenger  after  messenger 
praying  for  reinforcements  for  Kamenets.  Like  Cassandra, 
he  foretells  the  destruction  of  Ilium  and  Priam's  subjects; 
but  they  pay  no  attention  to  it  and  only  try  to  discover 
offences  against  the  King." 

"What  is  your  lordship  speaking  about?" 

"Nothing.  I  was  comparing  Kamenets  with  Troy,  but  of 
course  you  haven't  heard  of  Troy.  Wait  a  little,  the  Hetman, 
I  vouch,  will  gain  you  your  nobility.  Public  affairs  are  such 
that  the  opportunity  will  not  be  wanting  if  you  really  want 
to  cover  yourself  with  glory." 

"I  shall  either  cover  myself  with  glory  or  the  earth  will 
cover  me.  As  there  is  a  God  in  Heaven,  you  will  hear  of 
me!" 

"But  those  men?  What  is  Krychinski  doing?  Will  they 
return  to  us  or  not?  What  are  they  doing  now?" 

"They  are  camping,  some  at  the  Urzyisk  steppes^  and  others 
further  away.  It  is  difficult  to  come  to  an  agreement  just 
now,  as  they  are  far  away.  They  have  orders  |o  move  to 
Adrianople,  and  take  all  the  provisions  they  can^carry  with 
them." 

"For  God's  sake!  that's  important  news,  for  if  there, is  to  be 
a  great  gathering  of  men  at  Adrianople,  war  with  us  is  certain 
to  follow.  The  Hetman  must  be  told  of  this  immediately. 
He  is  also  of  the  opinion  that  war  is  approaching,  but  this 
would  leave  no  doubt. 

"Halim  told  me  that  it  is  rumored  there  that  the  Sultan 
himself  would  be  at  Adrianople." 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


251 


"Blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord!  And  here  we  have 
scarcely  a  handful  of  men.  Our  only  hope  is  in  the  rock  of 
Kamenets.  Does  Krychinski  make  any  new  stipulations?" 

"He  writes  complaints  rather  than  stipulations.  A  general 
amnesty,  restoration  of  the  rights  and  privileges  of  nobles 
which  they  formerly  possessed,  and  commands  for  the  chiefs, 
that's  what  they  want,  but  they  are  hesitating,  as  the  Sultan 
has  offered  them  still  more/' 

"What's  that  you  say?  How  can  the  Sultan  offer  them 
more  than  the  Commonwealth.  The  rule  is  absolute  in 
Turkey  and  all  rights  and  privileges  are  entirely  dependent 
on  the  mere  whim  of  the  Sultan.  Even  if  the  present  ruler 
were  to  observe  all  his  undertakings,  his  successor  might 
break  or  trample  upon  them  at  will;  while  among  us  privileges 
are  inviolable,  and  whoever  becomes  a  noble  cannot  be  de- 
prived of  anything  even  by  the  King." 

"They  say  that  they  were  nobles,  but  that  they  were  treated 
just  as  if  they  had  been  dragoons;  that  the  Governors  more 
than  once  ordered  them  to  perform  various  duties  from  which 
not  merely  a  noble  but  even  his  follower  is  exempt." 

"But  if  the  Hetman  promises?"    .    .    . 

"No  one  doubts  the  noble  nature  of  the  Hetman  and  they 
are  all  fond  of  him  in  their  own  hearts,  but  this  is  how  they 
argue:  the  throng  of  nobles  will  cry  down  the  Hetman  for  a 
traitor,  he  is  hated  at  court,  and  a  cabal  threatens  to  impeach 
him.  What  can  he  do?" 

"Pan  Bogush  began  to  scratch  his  head. 

"Well,  what?" 

"They  themselves  are  uncertain  what  to  do." 

"And  will  they  stay  with  the  Sultan?" 

"No." 

"Bah,  who  will  order  them  to  come  back  to  the  Common- 
wealth?" 

"I!" 

"How  so?" 

"I  am  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey." 

"My  Azya,"  said  Pan  Bogush  after  a  pause,  "I  don't  deny 
that  they  may  be  devoted  to  your  race,  and  to  Tukhay  Bey's 
glory,  though  they  are  our  Tartars  and  Tukhay  Bey  was  our 
foe.  I  can  understand  that,  for  even  among  us^  some  nobles 
take  pride  in  saying  that  Khmelnitski  was  a  noble  and  not  a 
descendant  from  the  Cossacks,  but  from  our  people — the 
Mazovians.  .  .  Well,  though  there  is  no  greater  scoundrel 


252  MICHAEL. 

in  hell  than  he,  they  are  glad  to  recognize  him  because  he 
was  a  famous  warrior.  Such  is  man's  nature!  But  I  see  no 
sufficient  reason  why  your  descent  from  Tukhay  should  give 
you  the  right  to  command  over  all  the  Tartars/' 

For  a  while  Azya  did  not  speak,  then  he  put  his  hands  on 
his  hips  and  said: 

"Then  I  will  tell  you  Sir,  Undercarver,  I  am  obeyed  by 
Krychinski  and  others,  for,  in  addition  to  the  fact  that  they 
are  common  Tartars,  and  I  a  Prince,  I  have  other  strength 
and  resources.  .  .  Which  neither  you  nor  the  Hetman  have 
any  knowledge  of."  .  .  . 

"What  resources?    What  strength?" 

"I  can  scarcely  tell  you,"  Azya  replied  in  the  Russian 
tongue.  "But  how  is  it  that  I  am  ready  to  undertake  what 
another  would  not  dare  ?  Why  have  I  thought  of  what  others 
would  not  have  thought?" 

"What's  that  you  say?;   Of  what  have  you  thought?" 

"I  thought  of  this:  that  if  Pan  Hetman  would  be  willing 
and  give  me  permission  to  do  so,  I  would  bring  back  not  only 
the  captain,  but  I  would  also  bring  half  the  Horde  into  the 
service  of  the  Hetman.  Is  unoccupied  land  so  scarce  in  the 
Ukraine  a.nd  in  the  wilderness?  Let  the  Hetman  only  pro- 
claim that  the  Tartar  who  comes  over  to  the  Commonwealth 
will  be  ennobled,  will  not  suffer  religious  persecution,  and  will 
serve  in  a  company  of  his  own  people,  that  they  all  will  have 
their  own  Hetman,  as  the  Cossacks  have,,  and  I  will  stake  my 
head  that  the  entire  Ukraine  will  quickly  be  swarming  with 
men.  The  Lipkov  and  Cheremis  Tartars  will  come;  they  will 
come  from  Dobrudja  and  Byalogrod;  they  will  come  from  the 
Crimea,  driving  their  flocks,  and  with  their  wives  and  children 
in  wagons.  Your  lordship,  don't  shake  your  head,  come  they 
will  as  long  since  came  those  who  for  generations  were  faith- 
ful servants  of  ^he  Commonwealth.  In  the  Crimea  and  every- 
where else  the  people  are  oppressed  by  the  Khan  and  the 
Murzas,  but  here  they  will  be  ennobled,  they  would  have 
their  own  sabres  and  take  the  field  under  their  own  Hetman. 
I  will  take  my  oath  Sir,  that  they  will  come,  for  where  they 
are,  they  often  suffer  hunger.  Now  if  it  is  proclaimed  through 
the  villages  that  by  the  Hetman 's  authority  I  call  them — that 
Tukhay  Bey's  son  calls,  they  will  come  by  the  thousand." 

Pan  Bogush  put  his  head  in  his  hands. 

"By  God's  wounds!  Azya.  where  did  you  get  such  thoughts? 
What  would  be  the  remit? 


MICHAEL.  253 

"In  the  Ukraine  there  would  be  a  Tartar  nation  as  there 
now  is  a  Cossack.  You  have  granted  privileges  and  a  Hetman 
to  the  Cossacks.  Why  not  to  us.  You  ask  what  will  be  the 
result.  Not  what  there  is  now, — another  Khmyelnitski, — for 
we  should  have  immediately  put  our  foot  on  the  neck  of  the 
Cossack;  there  would  be  no  uprising  of  the  peasants  with 
carnage  and  destruction,  there  would  be  no  Doroshenko,  for 
once  let  him  rise  and  I  should  be  the  first  to  drag  him  to  the 
Hetman's  feet  with  a  halter.  And  if  the  Turkish  Power  took 
it  into  its  head  to  attack  us,  we  could  beat  the  Sultan;  if  the 
Khan  threatened  us  with  raids,  we  should  beat  the  Khan. 
Is  it  so  long  since  that  the  Lipkov  and  Cheremis  Tartars 
did  the  very  same  thing,  though  still  holding  the  Moham- 
medan faith?  Why  should  it  be  different  with  us?  We 
belong  to  the  Commonwealth  and  we  are  noble!  .  .  .  Now 
think  of  it.  The  Ukraine  pacified,  the  Cossacks  kept  in  shape, 
protection  from  Turkey,  thousands  and  thousands  of  addi- 
tional troops,  that's  my  idea,  that's  what  I  had  in  mind,  that's 
why  Krychinski,  Adurovich,  Moravski  and  Tvorkovski  obey 
me.  That's  why  one-half  of  the  Crimea  will  throng  to  the 
Steppes  at  my  call." 

Pan  Bogush  was  as  much  astonished  and  overwhelmed  by 
Azya's  words  as  if  the  walls  of  the  room  in  which  they  were 
sitting  had  suddenly  opened  and  revealed  new  and  strange 
vistas  to  his  eyes.  For  some  time  he  did  not  utter  a  word,  and 
simply  stared  at  the  young  Tartar,  but  Azya  began  to  take 
long  strides  up  and  down  the  room,  and  at  length  he  said: 

"Without  me  nothing  can  be  done,  for  I  am  the  son  of 
Tukhay  Bey,  and  there  is  no  greater  name  among  the  Tartars 
from  the  Dnieper  to  the  Danube." 

Presently,  he  added: 

"What  do  I  care  about  Krychinski,  Tvorkovski,  and  the 
rest.  It  is  not  only  a  question  of  them,  or  of  a  few  thousands 
of  Lipkov  and  Cheremis  Tartars,  but  of  the  whole  Common- 
wealth. It  is  said  that  there  will  be  a  great  war  in  the  Spring 
against  the  power  of  the  Sultan,  but  only  give  me  the 
authority  and  I  will  make  it  so  hot  among  the  Tartars  that 
even  the"  Sultan  will  burn  his  fingers." 

"In  God's  name  who  are  you,  Azya?"  Pan  Bogush  cried. 

He  raised  his  head. 

"The  future  Hetman  of  the  Tartars." 

At  that  moment  a  gleam  of  the  fire  illuminated  Azya's 
face  which  was  both  cruel  and  beautiful.  And  Pan  Boguah 


PAN  MICHAEL. 

felt  that  lie  was  iii  the  presence  of  a  new  man,  so  great  and 
proud  was  the  bearing  of  the  young  Tartar.  Pan  Bogush  also 
felt  that  Azya  was  speaking  the  truth.  If  the  iletman  were 
to  issue  such  a  proclamation,  the  whole  of  the  Lipkov  and 
Cheremis  Tartars  would  inevitably  return,  and  their  example 
would  be  followed  by  a  great  number  of  the  wilder  Tartars. 
The  old  Noble  was  quite  familiar  with  the  Crimea,  where  he 
had  been  twice  in  captivity  and,  after  being  ransomed  by  the 
Hetman,  he  had  acted  there  as  an  envoy.  He  knew  the  court 
of  Bakhche-Serai ;  he  knew  all  the  Hordes  from  the  Don  to 
the  Dobrudja;  he  knew  that  many  villages  were  wiped  out 
by  hunger  in  the  winter;  that  the  oppression  and  exactions 
of  the  Khan's  Baskaks  was  bitter  to  the  Muraas;  that  often 
there  was  rebellion  in  the  Crimea  itself;  and  therefore  he  im- 
mediately recognized  that  fertile  lands  and  privileges  would 
not  fail  to  tempt  all  whose  lot  was  hard  or  perilous  in  their 
old  abode. 

If  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  sent  out  the  call  they  would 
most  certainly  be  attracted.  Only  he  could  do  it,  no  one 
else.  By  means  of  his  father's  fame,  he  might  stir  up  the 
villagers  and  set  one-half  of  the  Crimea  against  the  other;  he 
could  bring  over  the  wild  Horde  of  Byalogrod  and  undermine 
the  whole  power  of  the  Khan,  yea,  and  even  of  the  Sultan. 

If  the  Hetman  cared  to  make  use  of  such  an  opportunity, 
he  might  regard  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  as  a  man  expressly 
sent  by  Providence. 

Consequently  Pan  Bogush  began  to  regard  Azya  in  a  differ- 
ent light  and  to  marvel  more  and  more  how  such  thoughts 
came  to  be  hatched  in  his  brain.  The  perspiration  broke  out 
on  his  brow  in  big  drops  in  amazement  at  those  ideas.  How- 
ever, his  mind  was  not  yet  entirely  free  from  doubt,  so  after 
a  pause,  he  said: 

"And  do  you  know  that  such  a  business  would  involve  war 
with  Turkey." 

"There  will  be  war  in  any  case.  Why  did  the  Horde  re- 
ceive orders  to  march  to  Adrianople?  Unless  dissensions 
break  out  in  the  Sultan's  own  domains  there  must  be  war, 
and  when  it  comes  to  the  point  half  the  Horde  will  be  found 
on  our  side." 

"The  rascal  has  a  ready  reply  for  every  point!"'  reflected 
Pan  Bogush.  "It  makes  my  head  swim." 

"You  see,  Azya,  it's  not  an  easy  matter  any  way  you  look 
at  it.  What  would  the  King  say,  and  the  Chancellors,  and 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


255 


the  estates  of  the  realm,  and  all  the  nobles,  the  majority  of 
whom  are  hostile  to  the  Hetman?" 

"All  I  need  is  the  Hetman's  written  permission,  and  when 
we  once  get  there,  let  them  drive  us  out  if  they  can!  Who 
will  do  that  and  how?  You  would  he  glad  enough  to  get  the 
Zaparojians  out  of  the  Sieh,  hut  you  can't  succeed  for  the 
life  of  you." 

"Pan  Hetman  would  fear  to  take  the  responsibility." 

"With  the  Hetman  there  would  be  fifty  thousand  sabres  of 
the  Horde  in  addition  to  the  troops  he  has  already." 

"And  the  Cossacks!  Do  you  forget  the  Cossacks?  They 
will  immediately  rise  in  rebellion!" 

"We  are  required  here  expressly  to  keep  a  sword  hanging 
above  the  Cossack  neck.  Where  does  Dorosh  get  his  support. 
From  the  Tartars!  Let  me  take  charge  of  the  Tartars  and 
Dorosh  must  bow  his  head  to  the  earth  before  the  Hetman." 

At  this  point  Azya  extended  his  hand  and  stretched  out 
his  fingers  like  an  eagle's  claw  and  then  grasped  the  hilt  of 
his  sabre. 

"So,  this  is  how  he  will  teach  law  to  the  Cossacks.  We 
will  make  serfs  of  them  and  hold  the  Ukraine.  Hear,  Pan 
Bogush.  You  think  that  I  am  a  little  man,  but  I  am  not 
so  insignificant  as  I  appear  in  the  eyes  of  Novovyeyski,  the 
commander  of  this  post,  and  yourself.  Look  at  me,  I  have 
pondered  over  this  night  and  day  till  I  have  grown  thin  and 
my  face  is  falling  away.  Look  at  it,  Sir,  it  has  greatly  dark- 
ened. But  what  I  have  thought  out  I  have  thought  out  thor- 
oughly, and  so  I  tell  you  that  I  possess  strength  and  counsel. 
You  yourself  see  that  these  are  weighty  matters.  Go  to  the 
Hetman  and  don't  delay.  Lay  the  affair  before  him  and  get 
him  to  give  me  a  letter  concerning  it,  and  I  don't  care  about 
the  other  authorities.  The  Hetman  has  a  mighty  mind  and 
he  will  know  what  strength  and  counsel  there  is  in  this.  Tell 
the  Hetman  that  I  am  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  and  that  I 
only  can  accomplish  it.  Lay  it  before  him  and  gain  his 
consent,  but  for  God's  sake  let  it  be  done  quickly  while  the 
snow  is  still  on  the  Steppes,  before  Spring  comes,  for  in  the 
Spring  there  will  be  war;  go  at  once  and  return  immediately, 
so  that  I  may  quickly  know  what  to  do." 

Pan  Bogush  did  not  notice  that  Azya  spoke  in  commanding 
tones  like  the  Hetman  issuing  his  orders  to  his  officers. 

"I  will  rest  to-morrow,  and  start  the  day  after,"  he  said. 
"God  grant  that  I  may  find  the  Hetman  in  Yavorov.  He  is 
quick  in  deciding  and  you  will  soon  have  an  answer." 


X   MICHAEL. 

"What  does  your  lordship  think  about  it?  Will  the  TTet- 
man  consent?" 

"Perhaps  he  will  order  you  to  come  to  see  him,  so  do  not 
go  to  Eashkov  at  present.  You  can  reach  Yavorov  more 
quickly  from  here.  1  cannot  tell  whether  he  will  consent, 
but  he  will  promptly  take  the  affair  under  full  consideration, 
for  your  reasons  are  very  weighty.  By  the  living  God,  I  did 
not  expect  this  of  you,  but  I  now  see  that  you  are  no  common 
man  and  that  the  Almighty  has  predestined  you  to  greatness. 
Well,  Azya,  Azya!  only  a  lieutenant  in  a  Tartar  company, 
and  yet  he  has  such  things  in  his  mind  as  to  terrify  a  man! 
Now  I  shall  not  be  surprised  to  see  even  a*  heron  feather  in 
your  cap  and  a  horse's  tail  above  you.  .  .  I  believe  even  in 
that  what  you  say,  that  these  thoughts  have  fired  your  heart 
during  the  night  hours.  .  .  I  will  take  a  little  rest  and 
start  the  day  after  to-morrow.  Now  I  will  leave  you,  as  it  is 
late  and  my  head  is  buzzing  like  a  mill.  God  be  with  you 
Azya.  .  .  My  head  aches  as  if  I  had  been  drunk.  .  .  God 
be  with  you  Azya,  son  of  Tukhay  Bey!" 

Then  Pan  Bogush  grasped  the  lean  hand  of  the  Tartar 
and  turned  to  go,  but,  at  the  door,  he  again  halted  and  cried: 

"What  is  that?  .  .  .  Fresh  armies  for  the  Common- 
wealth. .  .  A  sword  suspended  above  the  head  of  the  Cos- 
sack. .  .  Dorosh  subdued  .  .  .  rebellion  in  the  Crimea, 
.  .  .  the  Turkish  power  weakened  .  .  .  and  an  end  to  the 
raids  into  Russia,  .  .  .  for  Heaven's  sake!" 

Then  he  left,  and  Azya  looked  after  him  for  a  few  moments 
and  then  murmured : 

"But  for  me,  a  horse's  tail,  a  baton,  and  .  .  .  with  or 
without  her  consent,  herself.  If  not  woe  to  you  all!" 

Then  he  finished  his  gorzalka  and  cast  himself  upon  the 
couch  covered  with  skins.  The  fire  had  died  down  on  the 
hearth,  but  through  the  window  fell  the  bright  rays  of  the 
moon  which  had  mounted  high  in  the  cold  wintry  sky.  For 
some  time  Azya  lay  quietly,  but  could  not  sleep.  Finally  he 
arose,  approached  the  window  and  gazed  at  the  moon  that 
was  sailing  through  the  infinite  seas  of  the  heavens  like  a 
ship. 

The  young  Tartar  watched  it  for  a  long  time,  and  at  last 
he  laid  his  hands  on  his  breast  with  his  thumbs  pointing 
upward,  and  from  the  lips  of  him  who  scarcely  an  hour  ago 
had  professed  himself  a  Christian  came  out  a  cry  in  a  melan- 
choly half  chant,  half  drone: 

"La  Allah  ilia  Allah!  IT  Mahomet  Rassul  Allals!'"  (There 
is  no  God  but  Allah,  and  Mahomet  is  his  messenger.) 


CHAPTER  IX 

Since  the  early  morning  Basia  had  been  taking  counsel 
with  her  husband  and  Pan  Zagloba  on  the  question  of  how  to 
unite  two  loving  hearts.  The  two  men  laughed  at  her  earn- 
estness, and  continued  to  tease  her;  however,  as  they  always 
allowed  her  to  have  her  own  way,  like  a  spoiled  child,  they 
finally  promised  to  help  her. 

"We  had  best  persuade  old  Novovyeyski  not  to  take  the 
girl  with  him  to  Rashkov,"  said  Zagloba;  "tell  him  that  the 
frosts  have  come  and  the  roads  are  not  quite  safe.  The  two 
young  people  will  be  constantly  thrown  together  here,  and 
must  fall  desperately  in  love."  •* 

"That's  a  capital  thought/'  cried  Basia. 

"Capital  or  not,"  replied  Zagloba,  "don't  let  them  get  oufc 
of  your  sight.  You  are  a  grandmother,  and,  consequently,  I 
am  sure  that  you  will  bind  them  at  last,  for  a  woman  always 
has  her  own  way;  but  take  care  that  the  Devil  doesn't  have 
his  way  in  the  meantime.  That  would  bring  disgrace  upon 
you,  for  you  are  responsible  for  this  affair." 

Basia  spat  like  a  kitten,  at  Pan  Zagloba,  and  then  said: 

"You  are  always  boasting  that  in  your  youth  you  were  a 
Turk,  and  you  seem  to  think  that  everybody  is  a  Turk!  .  .  . 
Azya  is  not  such  a  one." 

"Not  a  Turk,  but  a  Tartar!  Pretty  one!  So  you  would— 
vouch  for  Tartar  love?" 

"They  are  both  thinking  more  about  their  tears  caused  by 
terrible  sorrow.  .  .  Besides,  Evka  is  a  very  honest  girl." 

"Yet  she  has  such  a  tell-tale  face  that  the  words  'Here 
are  lips  for  you!'  might  just  as  well  be  written  on  her  brow. 
Ho!  She  is  a  jackdaw!  I  discovered  yesterday,  that  when- 
ever she  sits  opposite  an  attractive  fellow,  she  sighs  so  deeply 
for  him  that  she  blows  her  plate  so  far  away  from  her  that 
she  has  to  draw  it  back  again.  A  real  jackdaw,  I  say." 

"Do  you  want  me  to  leave  the  room?"  asked  Basia. 

"You  won't  go  when  we  are  talking  of  match-making.  You 
won't  go — I  know  you!  But  anyhow  it's  too  soon  for  you  to 

17  (257) 


258 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


try  your  hand  at  matchmaking:  that  belongs  to  professional 
women.  You  have  no  dignity;  it  was  only  yesterday  that 
Pani  Boska  told  me  that  when  she  saw  you  coming  back  from 
the  battle  in  your  trousers,  she  thought  itwasPaniVolodiyov- 
ski's  little  son,  who  had  gone  on  an  expedition  to  the  woods. 
Dignity  doesn't  love  you,  either,  which  is  seen  at  once  in 
your  slender  figure.  As  I  love  God,  you  look  just  like  a  stu- 
dent! Another  style  of  women  are  in  fashion  now.  In  my 
day,  when  a  woman  sat  in  a  chair,  it  would  squeak  just  as  if 
you  had  stepped  on  the  tail  of  a  dog;  but,  as  for  you,  you 
could  ride  on  a  tom-cat's  back  without  least  fatiguing  the 
beast  at  all.  They  say  that  match-making  women  never  have 
any  children." 

"Do  they  really  say  that?"  asked  the  little  knight,  in  alarm. 

But  Pan  Zagloba  began  to  laugh;  and  Bask  laying  her 
rosy  cheek  against  her  husband's,  whispered: 

"Ah,  Michael,  some  time  we  will  make  a  pilgrimage  to 
Chenstohovo;  then,  perhaps,  the  Most  Holy  Lady  will  grant 
our  pfayer." 

"Indeed,  that  is  the  wisest  thing  to  do,"  said  Zagloba. 

Then  they  embraced  each  other,  and  Basia  said: 

"Now  let  us  talk  about  Azya  and  poor  Evka;  and  how  we 
can  best  help  them.  We  are  happy;  let  us  make  them  happy." 

"It  will  be  easier  for  them  after  Novovyeyski  has  gone," 
said  the  little  knight,  "for  in  his  presence  they  cannot  see 
each  other,  because  Azya  hates  the  old  man.  But  if  the  old 
man  were  to  give  him  Evka,  perhaps  they  might  forget  the 
past  and  love  each  other  as  son-in-law  and  father-in-law.  I 
think  it  is  not  a  question  of  throwing  the  young  people  to- 
gether, for  they  are  already  in  love,  but  of  winning  over  the 
old  man." 

"He  is  a  boor!"  exclaimed  Basia. 

"Basia,"  said  Zagloba,  "imagine  that  you  had  a  daughter, 
and  that  you  were  asked  to  give  her  to  some  Tartar." 

"Azya  is  a  prince,"  answered  Basia, 

"I  do  not  deny  that  Tukhay  Bey  is  of  blue  blood.  Hasling 
was  a  nobleman;  but  Krysia  Drohoyovska.  would  never  have 
married  him  if  he  had  not  been  naturalized." 

"Then  try  to  get  Azya  naturalized." 

"Do  you  think  that  an  easy  matter?  Even  if  some  one 
would  grant  him  an  escutcheon,  he  would  have  to  be  con- 
firmed by  the  Diet;  and  that  takes  time  and  protection." 

"That  time  is  needed,  I  do  not  like,  but  protection  can  be 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


259 


found.  Certainly  the  Hetman  will  not  refuse  this  to  Azya, 
for  he  loves  soldiers.  Michael,  write  at  once  to  the  Hetman. 
Do  you  need  paper,  ink,  or  pen?  Write  instantly!  I'll  get 
you  everything,  and  a  candle,  and  the  seal;  sit  down,  do  not 
delay,  and  write  at  once." 

Pan  Michael  began  to  laugh: 

"0  Almighty  God!"  he  cried,  "I  asked  for  a  sedate  and 
gentle  wife,  and  Thou  hast  given  me  a  whirlwind." 

''Say  that,  say,  and  I  shall  die!" 

"Ah,  you  are  impatient!"  cried  the  little  knight,  excitedly, 
"you  are  impatient.  Tfu!  tfu!  a  charm  for  a  dog!" 

Turning  to  Zagloba,  he  said:  "Do  you  know  the  words  of 
any  charm?" 

"I  know  some,  and  I've  just  repeated  them,"  replied  Zag- 
loba. 

"Write!"  commanded  Basia,  "or  I  will  jump  out  of  my 
skin." 

"I  would  write  twenty  letters  to  please  you,  though  I  don't 
know  if  they  could  do  any  good,  for  in  this  case  the  Hetman 
himself  can  do  nothing;  even  if  he  should  have  protection 
Azya  can  only  appear  at  the  proper  time.  My  dear  Basia, 
Fauna  Novovyeyski  has  told  you  her  secret, — very  well.  But 
you  have  not  said  a  word  to  Azya,  and  you  dont  know  now 
whether  he  is  burning  up  yith  love  for  Evka  or  not." 

"Not  burning  with  love  for  her?  Why  not,  when  he  kissed 
her  in  the  storehouse.  Aha!" 

"Golden  Soul!"  said  Zagloba,  smiling.  "You  talk  like  an 
infant,  only  you  have  a  fluent  tongue.  My  love*,  if  Michael 
and  I  had  to  marry  all  the  women  we  happen  to  kiss,  we 
should  have  to  become  Mohammedans  at  once,  and  I  should 
be  Padishah  of  Turkey  and  he  Khan  of  Crimea.  How's  that, 
Michael,  eh?" 

"I  suspected  Michael  before  we  were  married,"  said  Basia. 

And,  holding  up  her  finger  at  him,  she  began  to  tease  him: 

"Twist  your  moustache;  twist  it.  Don't  deny  it.  I  know, 
I  know,  and  you  know,  too  ...  at  Ketling's!"  .... 

The  little  knight  really  began  to  twist  his  moustache  to 
give  himself  an  air,  and  also  to  cover  his  confusion;  and  wish- 
ing to  change  the  conversation,  he  said: 

"And  so  you  don't  know  whether  Azya  is  in  love  with 
Panna  Novovyeyski?" 

"Wait;  I  will  talk  to  him  alone,  and  ask  him.  If  he  is  in 
love;  he  must  be  in  love!  If  he  isn't,  I  don't  want  to  know 
him!" 


26o  PAX    MICHAEL. 

"In  God's  name!  She  will  talk  him  into  it,"  exclaimed 
Zagloba. 

"And  I  will  persuade  him,  even  if  I  have  "to  see  him  every 
day." 

"Ask  him  first,"  said  the  little  knight.  "Perhaps  he  will 
not  admit  it  at  once,  because  he  is  different;  but  that's  noth- 
ing. You  will  gain  his  confidence  by  degrees;  you'll  get  to 
know  him  better;  you  will  know  what  to  do  when  you  under- 
stand him/' 

The  little  knight  turned  to  Pan  Zagloba: 

"She  seems  dull,  but  she  is  sharp." 

"Goats  are  sharp/'  replied  Zagloba  seriously. 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Pan  Bogush,  who 
burst  in  like  a  bomb-shell,,  and  after  kissing  Basia's  hand^. 
exclaimed : 

"May  bullets  hit  that  Azya!  I  never  closed  my  eyes  all 
night.  May  the  woods  cover  him!'' 

"How  has  Pan  Azya  offended  your  grace?"  asked  Basia. 

"Do  you  know  what  we  were  doing  yesterday?" 

And  Pan  Bogush  stared  at  each  of  them. 

"What?" 

"'Making  history!    As  I  love  God,  I  am  not  lying,  history!" 

"What  history?" 

"The  history  of  the  Commonwealth.  He  is  really  a  great 
man.  Pan  Sobieski  himself  will  be  astonished  when  I  submit 
Azya's  ideas  to  him.  I  repeat,  he  is  a  great  man;  and  I  am 
sorry  I  can't  tell  you  more,  for  I  am  sure  you  would  all  be  as 
much  amazed  as  I  am.  I  can  only  tell  you  that  if  he  succeeds 
in  accomplishing  his  purpose,  God  only  knows  what  he  will 
become." 

"For  instance,  do  you  think  he  will  become  Hetman?" 
asked  Zagloba. 

Pan  Bogush  placed  his  hands  on  his  hips:  "That's  it — he 
will  be  Hetman.  I'm  sorry  I  can't  tell  you  more.  .  .  He 
will  be  Hetman, — and  that's  enough." 

"Perhaps  a  Hetman  of  dogs,  or  he  will  have  to  join  the 
bullocks.  Herders  have  Hetmen  also.  Tfu!  what  has  your 
grace  been  saying,  Pan  TJndercarver?  It  is  true  that  he  is 
the  son  of  TukhayBey;  but,  if  he  is  to  be  Hetman,  what  shall 
I,  and  Pan  Michael,  and  your  grace  become?  Are  we  to  wait 
for  the  abduction  of  Casper,  Melchior,  and  Baltazar,  and  be- 
come the  three  kings  at  the  birth  of  Christ?  The  noblemen 
created  me,  at  least,  commander;  and  I  resigned  the  post  out 


JVLV  MICHAEL.  261 

of  friendship  for  Pavel,1  but,  as  <k>d  is  above,  I  dou't  under- 
stand your  prediction.1' 

"But  I  say  Azya  is  a  great  man." 

"I  said  so/'  "said  Basia,  looking  towards  the  door,  for 
some  other  guests  at  the  stanitsa  were  now  coming  in. 

First,  Pani  Boska  entered  with  the  blue-eyed  Zosia,  and 
Pan  Novovyeyski  with  Evka,  who,  notwithstanding  a,  bad 
night,  looked  more  charming  than  ever.  Strange  dreams  had 
disturbed  her  sleep;  dreams  of  Azya,  who  appeared  handsomer 
and  more  commanding  than  ever.  She  blushed  deeply  as  she 
thought  of  these  dreams,  for  she  fancied  that  everybody 
would  read  her  thoughts. 

She  was  unnoticed,  however,  for  everybody  began  to  say 
"good-morning"  to  the  Lady  Commandress.  Then  Pan  Bo- 
gush  again  told  his  story  of  Azya's  greatness  and  future;  and 
Basia  was  delighted  that  Evka  and  Pan  Novovyeyski  had  to 
hear  it.  Since  his  first  meeting  with  the  Tartar,  the  old  man's 
anger  had  cooled  considerably,  and  he  was  now  much  calmer. 
He  no  longer  called  him  his  man.  Indeed,  he  was  impressed 
beyond  measure  by  the  discovery  that  he  was  a  Tartar  prince 
and  a  son  of  Tukhay  Bey.  He  listened  with  amazement  to 
the  story  of  Azya's  wonderful  bravery  and  the  Hetman's  im- 
portant charge  to  him  of  bringing  back  all  the  Lipkov  and 
Cheremis  Tartars  to  the  Commonwealth.  So  important  had 
Azya  become  in  his  opinion  that  at  times  it  seemed  even  to 
Pan  Novovyeyski  that  they  were  talking  not  of  Azya,  but  of 
another  person. 

Every  other  moment  Pan  Bogush  repeated  very  myster- 
iously: 

"This  is  nothing  in  comparison  with  what  is  awaiting  him; 
but  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  speak  of  it." 

And  when  the  others  shook  their  heads  dubiously,  he  ex- 
claimed: 

"There  are  two  great  men  in  the  Commonwealth — Pan 
Sobieski  and  the  son  of  the  Tukhay  Bey." 

"For  the  love  of  God,"  said  Pan  Novovyeyski,  roused  at 
last,  "prince  or  no  prince,  what  can  he  have  in  the  Common- 
wealth unless  he  is  a  nobleman.  He  is  not  even  naturalized." 

"The  Hot  man  will  naturalize  him  ten  times!"  exclaimed 
Basia. 

Panna  Evka  heard  all  this  praise  with  closed  eyes  and  a 

1  Referring  to  Pavel  Sapyeha,  Voevode  of  Vilna,  and  Hetman  of  Lithuania. 


262  PAN   At 

beating  heart.  It  is  hard  to  say  if  it  would  have  beaten  so 
quickly  for  Azya,  poor  mid  obscure.  n.<  Tor  Azya,  the  knight 
with  a  great  future.  This  glitter  dazzled  her;  and  the  memory 
of  past  kisses  and  new  dreams  seized  now  with  a  tremor  of 
delight  the  young  lady's  body. 

"So  great  and  so  famous/'  thought  Evka.     "No  wonder 
that  he  is  as  quick  as  firef ' 


CHAPTER  X. 

That  very  day  Basia,  following  her  husband's  advice, 
made  the  Tartar  pass  "an  examination;",  and  as  she  was  afraid 
of  Azya's  shyness,  she  decided  not  to  insist  too  much. 

Nevertheless,  however,  he  had  hardly  come  into  her  pres- 
ence before  she  said,  speaking  directly  to  the  point: 

"Pan  Bogush  says  you  are  a  great  man;  but  I  believe  that 
no  great  man  avoids  love." 

Azya  closed  his  eyes  and  bent  his  head,  saying: 

"Your  grace  is  right." 

"I  see  you  have  a  heart."    .... 

After  this  remark,  Basia  shook  her  golden  locks  and 
winked,  as  if  to  say  she  understood  the  affairs  of  the  heart 
very  well,  and  hoped  she  was  speaking  to  a  man  of  similar 
experience.  Raising  his  head,  Azya  let  his  glance  wander  over 
her.  Never  had  she  seemed  so  lovely  as  now,  when  her  lovely 
eyes  were  bright  with  curiosity  and  their  own  fire  and  her 
child-like  face,  wreathed  in  smiles  and  blushes,  looked  upon 
his.  But  her  very  innocence  charmed  Azya  more  and  more; 
desire  rose  in  his  soul;  love  seized  him  powerfully  and  intoxi- 
cated him  like  wine,  driving  out  all  other  ambitions  but  this — 
to  steal  her  from  her  husband,  to  carry  her  off,  to  clasp  her 
forever  to  his  breast,  to  press  his  lips  to  hers,  and  to  feel  her 
arms  around  his  neck:  to  love  her  continually,  even  forget- 
ting all  else,  or  perish  with  or  without  her. 

Everything  whirled  about  him  with  this  thought;  from  the 
depths  of  his  soul  fresh  desires  came  creeping  like  serpents 
from  the  hidden  places  of  a  cliff.  Yet  he  was  a  man  of  great 
self-control,  and  holding  his  wild  heart  in  check  as  he  held 
a  furious  horse  while  throwing  the  lariat,  he  said  to  himself, 
"It  is  impossible  yet!" 

In  apparent  coldness  he  stood  before  her,  though  he  was 
on  fire,  and  his  eyes  with  their  dilated  pupils  revealed  all 
that  his  compressed  lips  concealed. 

But  Basia,  whose  soul  was  as  pure  as  the  waters  of  a 
spring  and  whose  mind  was  occupied  with  other  things,  did 

(263) 


264  PAN   MICHAEL. 

not  understand  his  meaning:  for  the  moment  she  was  thinking 
what  more  to  say  to  the  Tartar;  at  length  she  raised  her  hand 
and  said: 

"Many  a  man  has  a  secret  love  in  his  heart  and  does  not 
dare  to  mention  it  to  anyone,  but  if  he  were  frankly  to  con- 
fess it,  perhaps  he  might  receive  some  comfort." 

Azya's  face  darkened  for  a  moment  as  a  wild  hope  flashed 
through  his  brain  like  lightning,  but  he  immediately  recov- 
ered himself  and  asked: 

"What  is  your  ladyship's  meaning?" 

"Any  other  woman,"  replied  Basia,  "would  lose  patience 
with  you;  for  deliberation  is  not  a  woman's  nature,  but  I  am 
not  like  that.  As  for  assistance,  I  would  willingly  help  you, 
but  I  do  not  ask  you  to  confide  in  me  all  in  a  moment.  I  only 
say,'  'Do  not  shut  yourself  up  alone,  come  to  me  every  day/ 
I  have  already  discussed  the  affair  with  my  husband,  and  in 
time  you  will  realize  my  good  will,  and  know  that  mine  is  not 
merely  thoughtless  inquisitiveness,  but  sympathy  and,  more- 
over, if  I  give  you  my  aid,  I  must  first  be  sure  that  you  are 
in  love;  moreover,  it  is  only  proper  that  you  should  acknowl- 
edge it  first;  when  you  have  done  that,  I  too  may  be  able  to 
tell  you  something." 

Azya  immediately  realized  what  a  vain  hope  he  had  har- 
bored a  moment  since;  he  saw  at  once  that  it  concerned  Evka 
Novovyeyski;  and  all  the  maledictions  of  the  entire  family 
which  had  gathered  with  the  lapse  of  time  in  his  revengeful 
heart  rose  to  his  lips.  Hatred  flamed  up  in  his  soul  and  all 
the  more  fiercely  in  consequence  of  what  he  had  felt  a  mo- 
ment ago.  But  he  recovered  himself.  He  was  not  only  self- 
controlled,  but  he  possessed  all  the  Oriental  cunning.  He 
saw  immediately  that  if  he  were  to  indulge  his  venom  against 
the  Novovyeyskis  he  would  forfeit  Basia's  favor  and  the 
chance  of  seeing  her  daily;-  but  nevertheless,  he  felt  that  he 
could  not  overcome  his  feelings,  at  least  for  the  moment,  to 
the  extent  of  lying  to  the  woman  he  desired  as  to  the  state 
of  his  own  heart  or  professing  to  love  another. 

Therefore,  he  suddenly  cast  himself  at  Basia's  feet  in 
real  distress  and  genuine  suffering  and,  kissing  her  feet,  he 
cried:  "I  resign  my  heart  into  your  ladyship's  hands  and  to 
your  ladyship's  hands  I  confide  my  faith,  I  will  do  nothing 
but  what  you  order.  I  desire  to  submit  to  no  will  but  your 
own.  Do  what  you  will  with  me.  My  life  is  pain  and  an- 
guish, I  am  very  miserable. __Pity  me  or  I  shall  be  lost!" 


PAN    MICHAEL.  365 

And  he  began  to  moan  in  his  intense  suffering  and  the  re- 
pressed longings  that  were  burning  him  like  a  fire.  But 
Basia  thought  that  his  words  were  merely  the  outpouring  of 
his  love  for  Evka,  hidden  so  long  and  with  such  suffering,  and 
so  she  felt  an  immense  compassion  for  the  young  man  and 
two  little  tears  sparkled  in  her  eyes. 

"Kise,  Azya,"  she  said  to  the  kneeling  Tartar,  "I  have  ever 
wished  you  well  and  have  a  sincere  desire  to  serve  you.  You 
are  of  noble  blood,  and  the  authorities  will  certainly  requite 
ycmr  services  with  a  nobility.  Pan  Novovyeyski  will  submit 
to  be  pacified  since  he  now  regards  you  with  different  eyes, 
and  Evka  .  .  .  ' 

At  this  point  Basia  rose  and,  lifting  her  rosy  smiling  face, 
put  her  hand  to  her  mouth  and  whispered  in  Azya's  ear: 

"Evka  lovea  you/' 

His  face  became  drawn  as  if  with  terrible  anger,  he  put  his 
hands  on  his  hips  and,  without  regarding  the  effect  of  his 
words,  he  hoarsely  cried,  several  times: 

"Allah,  Allah,  Allah!" 

He  then  darted  from  the  room. 

Basia  looked  after  him  for  a  moment  or  two.  She  was 
not  much  surprised  at  the  exclamation,  because  it  was  often 
used  by  the  Polish  soldiers,  but,  at  the  sight  of  the  young 
Tartar's  excitement,  she  said  to  herself: 

"Beal  fire!  he  is  mad  after  her." 

Then  she  dashed  out  like  a  tempest  to  carry  the  news  to 
her  husband,  Pan  Zagloba  and  Evka.  She  found  Pan  Michael 
in  the  office,  deep  in  the  accounts  of  the  dragoons  stationed 
at  Khreptyov.  He  was  sitting  writing,  and  she  sprang  to  his 
side  and  cried: 

"Do  you  know  I  spoke  to  him;  he  fell  at  my  feet  and  is 
mad  after  her." 

The  little  knight  laid  down  his  pen  and  looked  up  at  his 
wife.  She  was  so  pretty  in  her  excitement  that  his  eyes 
sparkled  and  he  smiled  and  held  out  his  arms  to  her.  She 
kept  him  away  and  repeated: 

"Azya  is  mad  after  Evka." 

"As  I  am  after  you!"  cried  the  little  knight  as  he  embraced 
her. 

The  same  day  Zagloba  and  Evka  had  a  detailed  report  of 
her  talk  with  Azya.  The  maiden's  heart  now  entirely  sur- 
rendered itself  to  the  sweet  sentiment,  and  beat  like  a  hammer 
at  the  anticipation  of  their  first  interview,  and  still  more  at 


266 

the  thought  of  what  would  happen  when  they  were  alone. 
She  already  saw  Azya's  face  at  her  knees  and  felt  his  ki 
on  her  hands  and  her  own  languor  at  that  moment  when  the 
head  of  a  maiden  leans  towards  the  arms  of  a  lover,  and  her 
lips  whisper  "I  love  you."  In  the  meantime,  she  ardently 
kissed  Basia's  hands  in  her  emotion,  and  every  moment  kept 
looking  at  the  door  in  the  hope  of  seeing  the  dark  but  grace- 
ful figure  of  young  Azya  appear. 

But  Azya  did  not  appear,  because  Halim  had  arrived; 
Halim,  his  father's  old  servant  and  now  quite  an  important 
Murza  in  the  Dobrudja.  He  had  come  without  any  conceal- 
ment, because  at  Khreptyov  every  body  knew  that  he  was  the 
intermediary  between  Azya  and  the  leaders  who  had  gone  over 
to  the  Sultan's  service.  They  immediately  closeted  themselves 
in  Azya's  quarters  where,  after  paying  due  obedience  to  the 
son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  Halim  crossed  his  hands  on  his  breast 
and  with  bowed  head  waited  to  be  questioned. 

"Have  you  any  letters?" 

"None,  Effendi,  they  ordered  me  to  convey  it  all  by  word  of 
mouth."  ' 

"Speak  then." 

"War  is  certain.  We  must  all  go  to  Adrianople  in  the 
Spring.  The  Bulgarians  have  orders  to  take  hav  and  barley 
there." 

"And  where  will  the  Khan  be?" 

"He  will  go  direct  by  the  Steppes  through  the  Ukraine  to 
Doroshenko." 

"What  is  the  news  from  the  Cossack  encampments?" 

"They  are  happy  at  the  thought  of  war  and  are  longing 
for  the  Spring;  there  is  much  suffering  among  them,  though  it 
is  only  the  beginning  of  Winter." 

"Is  the  suffering  very  great?" 

"A  great  number  of  horses  have  died.  Men  have  sold  them- 
selves into  slavery  in  Byalogrod  just  to  live  till  the  Spring. 
Great  numbers  of  horses  have  died,  Effendi,  because  there 
was  so  little  grass  on  the  Steppes  in  the  Autumn.  ...  It 
had  all  been  burnt  up  by  the  sun." 

"But  have  they  heard  "of  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey?" 

"I  told  as  much  as  you  would  allow.  The  rumor  was  spread 
by  the  Lipkov  and  Cheremis  Tartars,  but  no  one  knowrs  the 
exact  truth.  There  is  also  considerable  talk  of  the  report  that 
the  Commonwealth  wants  to  give  them  lands  and  freedom, 
and  call  them  to  serve  under  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey.  At  the 


PAN    MICHAEL.  267 

very  hint  of  it  all  the  poorer  villages  were  in  a  ferment.  They 
are  quite  willing,  Effendi,  quite  willing,  but  others  tell  them 
that  it  is  not  true,  and  the  Commonwealth  will  attack  them, 
and  that  a  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  does  not  exist  at  all.  There 
were  some  of  our  merchants  in  the  Crimea  and  they  say  that 
reports  were  also  there  that  "A  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  exists/7 
and  the  people  were  excited,  but  others  said,  "He  does  not 
exist,"  and  they  quieted  down  again.  But  if  the  word  should 
once  go  forth  that  your  grace  summons  them  to  freedom, 
lands,  and  war,  they  would  come  in  swarms.  .  .  .  Only  give 
me  authority  to  speak.  .  .  .  '' 

Azya's  face  became  radiant  with  pleasure,  and  he  began 
to  take  long  strides  up  and  down  the  room,  finally  he  said: 

"Make  yourself  comfortable  under  my  roof,  Halim;  sit  down 
and  eat." 

"I  am  your  slave  and  dog,  Effendi,"  cried  the  old  Tartar. 

Azya  clapped  his  hands  and  a  Tartar  servant  came  in  and, 
at  his  orders,  quickly  returned  with  refreshments,  gorzalka, 
dried  meat,  bread,  sweetmeats,  and  some  handfuls  of  dried 
watermelon-seeds  which,  as  well  as  the  seeds  of  the  sunflower, 
are  held  a  great  delicacy  among  the  Tartars. 

"You're  not  a  servant,  but  a  friend,"  said  Azya,  when  the 
servant  had  departed.  "Be  welcome!  for  you  are  a  bringer  of 
good  news;  sit  down  and  eat." 

Halim  began  to  eat  and  nothing  was  said  till  he  had  fin- 
ished. He  had  soon  refreshed  himself,  and  then  sat  looking 
at  Azya,  waiting  for  him  to  speak. 

"Here  they  know  who  I  am  now,"  at  last  Azya  said. 

"What  then,  Effendi?" 

"Nothing.  Their  respect  for  me  is  the  greater.  When  it 
came  to  business,  I  should  have  had  to  tell  them  anyway.  But 
I  put  it  off  till  I  had  received  news  from  the  Horde,  and  I 
wanted  to  tell  the  Hetman  first;  but  Novovyeyski  arrived  and 
recognized  me." 

"The  young  one!"  cried  Halim  in  alarm. 

"No,  the  old  one,  Allah,  has  delivered  them  all  into  my 
hands  here,  for  the  girl  is  with  them.  The  devil  must  have 
possessed  them.  Only  let  me  become  Hetman  and  I  will 
have  a  game  with  them.  They  are  giving  the  girl  to  me;  all 
right!  we  always  need  slaves  in  the  Harem." 

"Is  the  old  man  the  matchmaker?" 

"No  ...  She!  ...  She  believes  that  I  love  the 
other,  and  not  her." 


"Effendi!"  said  Halim  with  deep  reverence,  "I  am  the  slave 
of  your  house  arid  have  no  right  to  speak  in  your  presence; 
but  I  recognized  you  among  the  Lipkov  Tartars;  I  informed 
you  who  you  were  at  Bratslav,  and  from  that  moment  I  have 
faithfully  served  you.  I  tell  others  that  they  are  to  regard  you 
as  their  master,  but  although  they  love  you,  no  one  can  love 
you  as  I  do;  am  I  allowed  to  speak?" 

"Speak  on." 

"Guard  against  the  little  knight.  He  is  celebrated  through- 
out the  Crimea  and  the  Dobrudja." 

"And  Halim,  have  you  heard  of  Khmyelnitski?" 

"I  have  heard,  and  I  served  under  Tukhay  Bey  who  fought 
with  Khmyelnitski  against  the  Poles,  and  destroyed  castles 
and  captured  spoil." 

"And  are  you  aware  that  Khmyelnitski  deprived  Chap- 
Hnski  of  his  wife,  and  married  her  himself,  and  had  children 
by  her?  What  followed.  War.  And  all  the  armies  of  the 
Hetmans  and  the  King  and  the  Commonwealth  together  could 
not  take  her  from  Khmyelnitski.  He  defeated  the  Hetmans 
and  the  King  and  the  Commonwealth  and  became  the  Het- 
man  of  the  Cossacks.  And  what  shall  I  be?  Hetman  of  the 
Tartars.  They  will  have  to  give  me  lots  of  land  and  some 
town  for  my  capital;  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  town  villages 
will  arise  on  fertile  land  and  the  villages  will  contain  good 
fighting  men  with  plenty  of  bows  and  sabres.  And  when  I 
carry  her  off  to  my  town,  and  make  her  my  wife,  the  beauty, 
whose  will  be  the  power.  Mine.  Who  will  think  of  her?  The 
little  knight!  .  .  .  If  he  will  yet  be  alive!  .  .  .  Even 
if  he  should  be,  and  should  howl  like  a  wolf  and  beat  his  head 
on  the  earth  before  the  king  in  complaint,  do  you  think  that 
they  will  go  to  war  with  me  for  one  tress  of  golden  hair? 
They  have  already  had  one  such  war,  and  half  the  Common- 
wealth was  in  flames.  Who  will  take  her  away  from  me?  Will 
the  Hetman?  In  that  case,  I  will  go  over  to  the  Cossacks, 
form  brotherhood  with  Doroshenko,  and  deliver  over  the 
country  to  the  Sultan.  I  am  another  Khmyelnitski:  I  am 
better  than  Khmyelnitski,  for  a  lion  dwells  in  me.  Let  them 
allow  me  to  take  her  and  I  will  serve  him  and  defeat  the  Cos- 
sacks, the  Khan,  and  the  Sultan.  If  not,  I  will  trample  all 
Poland  under  my  horse's  feet,  capture  -the  Hetmans,  scatter 
armies,  burn  towns,  and  slay  the  inhabitants.  I  am  the  son 
of  Tukhay  Bey:  I  am  a  lion!" 

Here  a  red  light  blazed  in  Azya's  eyes  and  his  white  teeth 


PAN   MICHAEL.  269 

gleamed  like  old  Tukhay's;  he  raised  his  hand  and  shook  his 
iist  threateningly  towards  the  North  and  he  looked  mighty, 
and  dreadful,  and  splendid,  so  that  Halim  bowed  again  and 
again  before  him  and  said  in  low  tones: 

''Allah  Kerim,  Allah  Kerim!  (God  is  merciful.) 

A  protracted  silence  followed.  Azya  gradually  grew  more 
calm  and  at  last  said: 

"Bogush  was  here,  I  showed  him  my  power  and  resources, 
namely,  to  set  up  in  the  Ukraine  beside  the  Cossack  nation  a 
Tartar  one  with  a  Tartar  Hetman  in  addition  to  the  Cos- 
sack Iletman.  .  .  "  . 

"Did  he  approve  of  it?" 

"He  put  his  head  in  his  hands  and  almost  beat  it  on  the 
earth,  and  the  next  day  went  off  with  the  great  news  to  the 
Hetman  at  full  gallop." 

"Effendi,"  cried  Halim,  respectfully,  "suppose  the  Great 
Lion  should  not  approve  of  it?" 

"Sobieski?" 

"Yes." 

Azya's  eyes  again  began  to  glare  with  a  red  light,  but  it 
lasted  only  for  a  second.  His  face  immediately  grew  calm 
again,  and  he  sat  down  on  the  bench,  supported  his  head  in 
his  hands,  and  began  to  think  deeply. 

At  last  he  said:  "I  have  carefully  weighed  the  Grand  Het- 
man's  reply  to  Bogush's  great  news.  The  Hetman  is  wise 
and  will  agree.  He  knows  that  there  must  be  war  with  the 
Sultan  in  the  Spring,  for  this  the  Commonwealth  possesses 
neither  the  money  nor  men,  and  when  Doroshenko  and  the 
Cossacks  side  with  the  Sultan,  Poland  will  be  finally  destroyed. 
The  more  so,  because  neither  the  king  nor  the  estates  of  the 
realm  believe  that  war  will  come,  and  are  making  no  haste  for 
preparation.  I  am  carefully  listening  to  everything  here.  I 
am  aware  of  all  that  goes  on  and  Bogush  makes  no  secret  of 
what  is  said  at  the  headquarters  of  the  Hetman.  Pan  So- 
bieski is  a  great  man;  he  will  agree,  for  he  knows  that  if  the 
Tartars  seek  lands  and  freedom  here,  it  may  result  in  civil  war 
in  the  Crimea  and  on  the  Steppes  of  the  Dobrudja,  and  that 
*he  Horde  will  be  weakened,  and  the  Sultan  himself  must  take 
jue^sures  to  still  those  storms.  ...  In  the  meantime,  the 
Hetman  will  gain  time  to  be  better  prepared,  and  the  Cos- 
sacks and  Doroshenko  will  swerve  from  their  fealty  to  the 
Sultan.  This  is  the  only  hope  for  the  Commonwealth,  which 
is  00  weak  thai  it  will  gain  strength  by  the  return  even  of  a 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

few  thousand  Lipkov  Tartars.  The  Hetman  is  perfectly  well 
aware  of  this;  he  is  a  wise  man  and  will  agree."  .  .  . 

"1  bow  low  before  your  wisdom/7  replied  Halim,  "but  what 
will  happen  if  Allah  deprives  the  Great  Lion  of  his  light,  or  if 
Satan  blinds  him  with  his  pride,  so  that  he  rejects  your  de- 
signs/' 

Azya  put  his  savage  face  close  to  Halim's  ear  and  whispered: 

"You  must  stay  here  until  the  Hetman's  answer  arrives, 
and  I  will  not  go  to  Eashkov  till  then.  If  they  will  not  fall 
in  with  my  plans.,  I  will  send  you  to  Ivrychinski  and  the 
others.  You  will  order  them  to  advance  along  this  side  of  the 
river,  almost  as  far  as  Khreptyov,  and  be  prepared,  while  I 
with  my  Lipkovs  will  fall  upon  this  post  on  the  first  favorable 
night,  and  treat  them  like  this:  • 

Here  Azya  drew  his  finger  across  his  throat  and  presently 
added: 

"Kensim!  kensim!  kensim!"     .     .     . 

Halim  crouched  down  and  on  his  face,  which  resembled  a 
wild  animal,  there  was  a  significant  smile. 

"Allah!    And  the  Little  Falcon,  too?"    .    .    . 

"Yes!    Him  first  of  all." 

"And  then — into  the  Sultan's  domainn?" 

"Precisely!    .    .    ,    with  her  I"    ,   ,   , 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  severe  winter  had  covered  the  forests  with  a  heavy 
mantle  of  snow  and  icicles,  and  filled  the  ravines  to  their 
brink  with  snow-drifts  till  the  whole  land  looked  like  one 
white  level  plain.  Tremendous  storms  came  suddenly,  bury- 
ing men  and  cattle  under  the  pall  of  snow.  Roads  became 
dangerous  and  misleading;  but  Pan  Bogush  made  the  greatest 
haste  to  Yavorov  to  inform  the  Hetman  of  Azya's  mighty 
designs  as  early  as  possible.  A  horder  noble,  brought  up  in 
constant  danger  from  Cossack  and  Tartar,  and  engrossed  with 
the  thought  of  the  dangers  by  which  the  country  was  men- 
aced by  rebellion  and  forays  and  the  whole  power  of  the 
Turks,  he  regarded  these  plans  as  almost  constituting  the 
country's  sole  salvation;  in  his  heart  he  religiously  believed 
that  the  Hetman,  who  was  reverenced  by  himself  in  common 
with  all  the  men  on  the  border,  would  not  hesitate  for  an 
instant  when  the  might  of  the  Commonwealth  was  concerned: 
he  therefore  rode  on  with  a  joyful  heart,  notwithstanding 
heavy  drifts,  obliterated  roads,  and  storms. 

At  last,  one  Sunday,  he  arrived  covered  with  snow  at 
Yavorov  and  had  the  good  fortune  to  find  Pan  Sobieski  at 
home,  and  immediately  had  his  arrival  announced,  although 
the  attendants  told  him  that  the  Hetman  was  engaged  night 
and  day  on  expeditions  and  sending  off  despatches,  and  had 
scarcely  time  even  for  his  meals.  But  to  their  surprise,  the 
Hetman  at  once  ordered  him  to  be  admitted.  So,  after  a 
very  short  wait,  the  old  soldier  bowed  at  the  knees  of  the 
commander. 

He  found  Pan  Sobieski  greatly  changed,  and  his  face 
lined  with  care,  for  these  were  almost  the  most  unhappy 
years  of  his  life.  His  name  had  not  yet  resounded  in  every 
corner  of  Christendom,  although  already  in  the  Common- 
wealth, he  was  surrounded  with  the  fame  of  a  mighty  leader 
and  terrible  destroyer  of  the  Mussulmans.  On  that  account, 
the  grand  baton  and  the  defence  of  the  eastern  border  was 
confided  to  him  in  time,  but  the  dignity  of  Hetman  was  ac- 

(»7O 


X    MICHAEL. 


companied  by  neither  men  nor  money.  Nevertheless,  hith- 
erto, victory  had  followed  his  steps,  as  surely  as  a  man's 
shadow  follows  him.  With  a  very  small  force  he  had  gained 
a  victory  at  Podhaytse;  with  a  very  small  force  he  had  passed 
through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Ukraine  like  a  de- 
vouring flame,  grinding  chambuls  of  many  thousands  into 
dust,  capturing  rebellious  cities  and  spreading  terror  with  the 
name  of  the  Pole.  But  now  the  Commonwealth  was  threat- 
ened with  a  war  against  the  most  terrible  of  all  the  powers  of 
that  day,  for  it  was  a  struggle  with  the  whole  Mussulman 
world.  It  was  no  secret  to  Sobieski  now  that  Doroshenko 
had  delivered  over  the  Ukraine  and  the  Cossacks  to  the  Sul- 
tan; the  latter  had  promised  to  make  Turkey,  Asia  Minor, 
Arabia,  and  Egypt  down  to  the  heart  of  Africa,  proclaim  a 
sacred  war  and  go  personally  to  the  Commonwealth  to  de- 
mand a  new  Pashalik.  Desolation  like  a  bird  of  prey  was 
hovering  over  the  whole  of  Southern  Eussia  and  in  the  mean- 
time, in  .the  Commonwealth  itself  there  was  disorder;  the  no- 
bles were  riotously  supporting  their  weak  king,  and  taking  up 
arms  so  as  to  be  ready  for  a  possible  civil  war.  The  country 
was  exhausted  with  recent  struggles  and  military  confedera- 
tions and  was  impoverished.  Bitter  envy  was  rife,  and  mu- 
tual distrust  was  poisoning  men's  minds.  Nobody  wanted  to 
believe  that  there  was  any  immediate  danger  of  war  with  the 
Mussulmans,  and  they  condemned  the  great  leader  for  an- 
nouncing it  with  the  intention  of  distracting  attention  from 
internal  affairs.  They  also  brought  against  him  the  more 
serious  accusation  that  he  himself  was  quite  ready  to  call 
in  the  aid  of  the  Turks  for  the  sake  of  assuring  victory  to 
his  own  followers.  They  made  him  out  to  be  a  common 
traitor  and  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  army  they  would  most 
certainly  have  brought  him  before  the  court. 

To  carry  on  the  approaching  war,  to  which  thousands  of 
savage  hordes  would  flock  from  the  East,  he  had  not  what 
could  be  called  an  army,  but  merely  a  handful,  so  small  that 
the  Sultan's  court  had  more  servants;  he  had  no  money,  no 
means  to  repair  the  ruined  fortresses,  nor  any  hope  of  vic- 
tory, nor  power  of  defence,  nor  even  the  assurance  that  his 
death,  like  that  of  Jolkyevski  of  old,  would  awake  the  coun- 
try from  its  torpor,  and  give  birth  to  an  avenger.  This  was 
why  his  brow  was  lined  with  care,  and  the  noble  face,  like 
that  of  a  Roman  conqueror  with  laurels  on  his  brow,  showed 
traces  of  secret  suffering  and  sleepless  nights. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  273 

But  at  the  sight  of  Bogush,  a  pleasant  smile  lighted  up  the 
Hetman's  face;  he  laid  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the 
man  who  was  bowing  before  him,  and  said: 

"I  gieet  you,  soldier,  I  greet,  you;  1  had  not  hoped  to  see 
you  so  soon,  but  you  are  all  the  more  welcome  to  me  here 
in  Yavorov.  Where  have  you  come  from?  From  Kamen- 
ets?" 

"No,  most  serene  and  Mighty  Lord  Hetman,  I  have  not 
even  called  at  Kamenets,  I  have  come  direct  from  Khrep- 
tyov." 

"What  is  my  little  soldier  doing  there.,  is  he  well,  has  he 
at  all  succeeded  in  clearing  the  wilderness  of  Ushytsa?' 

"It  is  so  quiet  there  that  a  child  might  go  through  it 
safely.  The  robbers  have  been  hanged,  and  within  the  last 
few  days,  Azba  Bey  and  his  whole  following  have  been  cut 
to  pieces  so  that  there  was  not  even  a  man  left  to  tell  the 
tale.  ...  I  arrived  there  on  the  very  day  of  the  slaughter.-' 

"I  recognize  Pan  Michael's  work  there;  the  only  man  to 
be  compared  with  him  is  Rushchyts  in  Rashkov.  What  is  the 
news  in  the  steppes?  Is  there  anything  fresh  from  the 
Danube?" 

"Only  evil  news.  At  the  end  of  the  winter  there  is  to  be 
a  mighty  gathering  of  troops  at  Adrianople." 

"I  have  heard  of  that.  There's  never  any  news  now  but  ill 
news,  whether  from  the  Commonwealth,  the  Crimea,  or 
Stambul." 

"Not  exclusively,  for  I  myself  bring  such  good  news  that 
if  I  were  a  Turk  or  a  Tartar,  I  should  hint  at  a  gift." 

"In  that  case,  you  have  fallen  from  Heaven.  Now,  speak 
quickly  and  remove  my  anxiety." 

"But  I  am  so  frozen  Your  Highness,  that  my  understand- 
ing has  congealed  in  my  head." 

The  Hetman  clapped  his  hands  and  ordered  the  servant 
to  bring  soone  mead.  Presently  they  brought  in  a  dusty 
flask  and  lights,  for  although  it  was  still  early,  thick  snow 
clouds  had  so  obscured  the  atmosphere,  that  it  was  as  dark 
as  twilight  outside  as  well  as  in. 

The  Hetman  poured  out  and  drank  to  his  guest,  who  bowed 
low  and  drained  his  goblet  and  said: 

"The  first  piece  of  news  is  that  that  Azya,  who  was  com- 
missioned to  bring  back  into  our  service  the  chiefs  of  the 
Lipkov  and  Cheremis  Tartars,  is  not  properly  named  Mellek- 
hovich,  but  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey." 


274 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


"Of  Tukhay  Bey/'  cried  the  astonished  Pan  Sobieski. 

"It  is  this  way,  Your  Highness,  it  appears  that  Pan  Ny- 
enashinyets  carried  him  off  from  the  Crimea  in  his  infancy, 
but  lost  him  on  his  way  back,  and  Azya,  who  fell  into  the 
possession  of  the  Novovyeyskis,  was  brought  up  with  them 
without  any  knowledge  of  his  parentage." 

"I  wondered  how  that  he  who  was  so  young  was  so  highly 
esteemed  by  the  Tartars.  But  I  understand  now,  for  the 
Cossacks  also,  even  those  who  have  remained  faithful  to  Our 
Mother,  regard  Khymyelnitski  as  a  sort  of  saint  and  rever- 
ence him." 

"That's  it  exactly!  exactly!  I  told  Azya  the  very  same 
thing/'  cried  Pan  Bogush." 

"Wonderful  are  the  decrees  of  the  Almighty!"  exclaimed 
the  Hetman,  after  a  pause,  "old  Tukhay  shed  oceans  of  blood 
in  our  land  and  his  son  is  now  serving  it,  at  least  he  has 
served  it  faithfully  till  now,  but  now  it  is  doubtful  whether 
he  won't  want  to  enjoy  power  in  the  Crimea." 

"Now?  Now  he  is  more  faithful  than  ever,  and  this  is 
the  beginning  of  the  second  part  of  my  news,  in  which  per- 
haps may  be  found  the  help  and  salvation  for  the  distressed 
Commonwealth.  As  God  lives  the  news  made  me  forget 
weariness  and  peril  in  my  eagerness  to  impart  it  as  quickly 
as  possible  to  relieve  your  afflicted  heart." 

"I  am  all  attention!"  cried  Pan  Sobieski. 

Bogush  began  to  unfold  Azva's  plans  and  presented  them 
so  enthusiastically  as  to  become  quite  eloquent;  now  and  then 
his  hand,  trembling  with  excitement,  would  pour  out  a  glass 
of  mead,  spilling  the  generous  liquor  over  the  edge  as  he 
proceeded.  Vivid  pictures  of  the  future  passed  in  procession 
before  the  amazed  eyes  of  the  Grand  Hetman;  thousands 
and  myriads  arrived  for  lands  and  liberty,  accompanied  by 
their  wives,  children,  and  herds:  The  Cossacks,  in  amaze- 
ment at  the  new  power  of  the  Commonwealth,  bowed  down 
before  it  in  obedience  and  did  obeisance  to  the  King  and 
his  Hetman.  Rebellion  ceased  in  the  Ukraine,  no  longer  did 
raids,  as  wasting  as  fire  or  flood,  come  along  the  old  roads 
against  Eussia;  but,  side  by  side  with  the  Polish  and  Cossack 
troops,  moved  across  the  illimitable  steppes,  with  blare  of 
trumpets  and  beat  of  drums,  the  chambuls  of  Ukraine  noble 
Tartars. 

And,  year  after  year,  wagon  after  wagon  arrived  notwith- 
standing the  orders  of  Khan  and  Sultan,  bringing  mighty 


PAN    MICHAEL.  275 

throngs  who  preferred  bread  and  the  black  soil  of  the  Ukraine 
to  the  old  famished  settlements.  .  .  .  And  all  this  force, 
hitherto  hostile,  was  coming  into  the  service  of  the  Com- 
monwealth. The  Crimea  was  drained  of  its  inhabitants,  the 
Khan  and  the  Sultan  lost  their  ancient  power  and  the  fear 
of  them  died  out,  for,  from  the  steppes  and  the  Ukraine,  the 
new  Hetman  of  the  new  Tartar  nobility  faced  them  threaten- 
ingly! A  guardian  and  a  faithful  defender  of  the  Common- 
wealth, the  famous  son  of  <a  terrible  father,  young  Tukhay 
Bey. 

A  deep  flush  spread  over  Bogush's  face;  it  seemed  as  if 
he  was  carried  away  by  his  own  eloquence,  for  at  last,  he 
lifted  both  hands  and  cried: 

"This  is  what  I  bring!  This  is  what  that  Dragon's  cub 
has  hatched  out  in  the  wild  forests  of  Khreptyov.  Nothing 
more  is  needed  now  than  to  give  him  a  letter  and  Your  High- 
ness's  authorization  to  spread  the  news  in  the  Crimea  and 
on  the  Danube.  Your  Highness,  if  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey 
were  to  do  nothing  more  than  stir  up  trouble,  in  the  Crimea 
and  on  the  Danube,  to  cause  dissensions,  and  excite  the 
hydra  of  internecine  strife  among  the  Tartars,  to  set  camp 
against  camp,  and  this  on  the  eve  of  the  struggle,  I  repeat, 
he  would  be  rendering  an  enormous  and  deathless  service  to 
the  Commonwealth." 

But  Pan  Sobieski  strode  back  and  forth  through  the  room 
in  silence.  His  noble  face  was  dark  and  almost  terrible;  he 
strode  on  and  it  could  be  seen  that  his  heart  was  taking  secret 
counsel,  whether  with  himself  or  with  God,  who  could  say?" 

Finally  thou  didst  tear  some  leaf  out  of  thy  soul,  Grand 
Hetman,  for  the  answer  thou  gavest  to  the  orator  was  as  fal- 
lows: 

"Bogush,  had  I  even  the  right  to  give  such  a  letter  and 
such  authorization,  I  would  not  give  them  while  I  had  life." 

These  words  fell  on  the  ears  of  Bogush  as  heavily  as  if 
they  had  been  drops  of  molten  lead  or  iron,  so  that  for  a  sea- 
son he  was  speechless  and  hung  his  head,  and  only  after  a 
long  pause  did  he  groan: 

"But  why,  Your  Highness,  why?     ..     .     . 

"Tn  the  first  place,  I  will  tell  you  as  a  statesman,  that 
the  name  of  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  might  bring  over  a  cer- 
tain number  of  Tartars,  it  is  true,  if  lands,  freedom,  and  the 
privileges  of  nobles  were  offered  them,  but  there  would  be 
fewer  than  you  and  he  have  supposed.  Moreover,  it  would 


276  -P-Atf    MICHAEL. 

be  the  act  of  a  madman  to  summon  Tartars  to  the  Ukraine 
and  settle  new  tribes  there  when  we  cannot  even  manage 
the  Cossacks  alone.  You  assert  that  the  immediate  result 
would  be  mutual  strife  and  dissensions  and  that  a  sword 
would  be  suspended  above  the  Cossack  neck;  but  what  as- 
surance is  there  that  that  sword  would  not  also  be  stained 
with  Polish  blood.  Hitherto,  1  have  not  been  acquainted 
with  this  Azya,  but  now  I  see  that  the  dragon  of  pride  and 
ambition  dwells  in  his  heart,,  and  so  I  again  demand  who 
will  be  surety  against  his  turning  out  a  second  Khrnyelnitski. 
He  will  overcome  the  Cossacks, but  if  the  Commonwealth  fails 
to  satisf}^  some  demand  or  other,  or  threatens  to  execute  jus- 
tice and  punishment,  for  any  act  of  violence,  he  will  join 
hands  with  the  Cossacks,  call  fresh  hordes  from  the  East,  as 
Tukhay  Bey  was  called  by  Khymelnitski,  sell  himself  to  the 
Sultan  like  Doroshenko,  and  instead  of  an  increase  in  power, 
we  shall  suffer  additional  carnage  and  defeat." 

"Your  Mightiness,  when  the  Tartars  have  become  nobles, 
they  will  cling  faithfully  to^he  Commonwealth." 

"Were  the  renegade  Lipkov  and  Cheremis  Tartars  so  few? 
They  were  nobles  for  a  long. time,  and  yet  deserted  to  the 
Sultan." 

"The  Lipkovs  were  deprived  of  their  privileges!" 

"But  what  will  be  the  result,  if,  at  the  outset,  as  is  certain 
to  happen,  the  nobles  of  Poland  oppose  such  an  extension  of 
their  privileges  to  aliens?  With  what  show  of  right,  with 
what  conscience,  will  you  give  to  savage  marauders,  who 
have  been  incessantly  desolating  our  fatherland,  the  power 
and  privilege  of  determining  the  fate  of  that  land,  electing 
Kings  and  sending  members  to  the  diets?  Why  bestow 
such  a  reward  upon  them?  What  madness  has  entered  the 
brain  of  this  Lipkov,  and  what  evil  spirit  has  possessed  you, 
my  old  warrior,  to  allow  yourself  to  be  persuaded  and  fooled 
1  in  such  fashion  as  to  give  credit  to  such  infamy  ard  such 
impossibility?" 

Bogush  lowered  his  eyes  and  replied  in  a  faltering  voice: 

"Your  Mightiness,  I  knew  in  advance  that  there  would  be 
opposition  from  the  Estates  of  the  Realm,  but  Azya  asserted 
that  if  the  Tartars  established  themselves  with  the  authority 
of  Your  Mightiness  they  would  not  allow  themselves  to  be 
ejected." 

"Man,  why  it  was  a  menace!  he  shook  his  sword  over  the 
Commonwealth  and  vou  did  not  see  it!" 


PAN    MICHAEL.  277 

"Your  Mightiness!"  cried  Bogush  in  desperation,  "it  might 
be  managed  so  that  all  the  Tartars  should  not  be  ennobled, 
but  only  the  most  important  of  them,  and  the  rest  be  pro- 
claimed free.  Even  in  that  case  they  would  answer  the  call 
of  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey." 

"But  why  isn't  it  preferable  to  proclaim  freedom  for  all  the 
Cossacks.  Peace!  old  soldier,  I  tell  you  that  an  evil  spirit 
has  taken  possession  of  you/' 

"Your  Mightiness.     .     .     . 

"And  further,"  (here  Pan  Sobieski's  lion-like  brow  became 
wrinkled  and  his  eyes  flashed)  "even  if  it  were  to  happen 
as  you  say,  even  if  by  this  means  our  power  were  increased; 
even  if  war  with  Turkey  were  avoided;  even  if  the  nobles 
themselves  were  to  shout  for  it,  yet,  while  this  hand  of  mine 
can  wield  the  sabre  and  make  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  I  will 
never,  never,  consent  to  such  a  thing.  So  help  me  God!" 

"Why,  Your  Mightiness?"  reiterated  Pan  Bogush  wring- 
ing his  hands. 

"Because  not  only  am  I  a  Polish,  but  a  Christian  Hetman, 
for  I  stand  to  guard  the  Cross.  And  even  if  these  Cossacks 
lacerate  the  entrails  of  the  Commonwealth  more  brutally 
than  ever,  I  will  not  use  the  swords  of  the  Infidels  to  sever 
the  necks  of  a  blind,  but  still  Christian  community;  for  by 
such  action,  I  should  be  saying  'Raca'  to  our  fathers  and 
grandfathers,  to  my  own  ancestors  and  their  ashes,  and  to 
the  tears  and  blood  of  the  entire  Commonwealth  in  the  past. 
As  God  is  true!  if  destruction  is  to  be  our  lot,  if  our  name 
must  be  that  of  a  dead,  instead  of  a  living  nation,  at  least 
let  our  glory  remain  and  some  memory  of  that  duty  which 
was  pointed  out  to  us  by  God.  Let  people  who  come  after 
us  say  as  they  look  at  those  crosses  and  tombs:  'Here  was  true 
Christianity,  here  they  defended  the  Cross  against  the  vile- 
ness  of  Mohammedanism  so  long  as  they  had  breath  in  their 
bodies  and  blood  in  their  veins;  and  they  died  for  other  na- 
tions/ That  is  our  duty,  Bogush.  Look,  we  are  the  strong- 
hold on  which  Christ  has  set  his  crucifix  and  you  tell  me, 
a  soldier  of  the  Lord,  nay,  the  commander  of  the  fortress,  to 
be  the  first  to  throw  open  the  gates  and  admit  the  Infidels 
like  wolves  to  a  sheepfold  and  deliver  over  the  sheep,  the 
flock  of  Jesus  to  the  slaughter.  Rather  let  us  suffer  from 
chambuls;  rather  let  us  bear  rebellion;  rather  let  us  meet  this 
dreadful  war;  rather  let  us  too  fall,  and  the  whole  Common- 
wealth perish  than  disgrace  our  name,  lose  our  renown,  and 
betray  this  guardianship  and  service  of  the  Lord/' 


278  PAX    MICHAEL. 

As  he  concluded  Pan  Sobieski  towered  in  his  full  grandeur, 
and  his  face  shone  like  the  dawn  as  must  have  shone  that 
of  Godfrey  de  Bouillon  when,  on  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  he 
cried:  "God  wills  it!"  Before  those  words  Pan  Bogush 
seemed  a  dust  in  his  own  eyes  and  Azya  seemed  to  him  as 
dust  beside  Pan  Sobieski;  and  the  young  Tartar's  brilliant 
schemes  suddenly  grew  dark  and  became  in  Bogush's  eyes 
altogether  vile  and  infamous.  For  what  reply  could  he  make 
to  the  Hetman's  words  "that  it  was  better  to  die  than  to 
betray  the  service  of  the  Lord/  What  argument  could  he 
advance?  and  so  the  poor  knight  did  not  know  whether  to 
fall  at  the  Hetman's  feet  or  to  beat  his  own  breast  and  cry, 
"Mea  culpa,  mea  maxima  culpa."  ("My  sin,  my  great  sin/') 
But  at  that  moment  the  sound  of  bells  was  heard  from  the 
neighboring  Dominican  monastery. 

As  he  heard  it  Pan  Sobieski  cried: 

"They  are  ringing  to  vespers,  Bogush,  let  us  go  and  sub- 
mit ourselves  to  God!" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

To  the  same  degree  that  Pan  Bogush  hurried  on  his  wa} 
from  Khreptyov  to  the  Hetman,  so  he  loitered  on  his  way 
back.  In  each  town  of  any  size  he  halted  for  a  week  or  two, 
spending  the  feast  in  Lemburg,  and  remaining  there  till  the 
New  Year.  It  is  true  that  he  was  taking  the  Hetman's  in- 
structions to  Tukhay  Bey's  son,  but  these  merely  amounted  to 
orders  to  bring  the  business  of  the  Lipkov  leaders  to  a  prompt 
conclusion,  and  a  sharp  and  even  menacing  order  to  relin- 
quish his  great  designs.  Pan  Bogush  had  therefore  no  reason 
for  haste,  since  Azya  could  take  no  steps  with  the  Tartars 
without  a  letter  from  the  Hetman. 

He  therefore  lingered  and  visited  churches  along  the  way, 
performing  penance  because  he  had  fallen  in  with  Azya's 
schemes.  Meanwhile,  directly  after  the  new  year,  many 
guests  had  arrived  at  Khreptyov.  From  Kamenets  came 
Naviragh,  an  envoy  from  the  Patriarch  of  Uzmiadzin,  accom- 
panied by  two  Anardrats,  learned  divines  from  Kaffa,  with 
many  attendants.  The  soldiers  were  greatly  interested  in 
the  strange  garb  of  these  people,  at  the  violet  and  crimson 
Crimean  caps,  with  long  shawls  of  velvet  and  silk  above  their 
dark *f aces  and  their  intense  gravity,  as  they  walked  like  cranes 
and  bustards  about  the  Khreptyov  post.  Pan  Zaharyash  Pyo- 
trovich,  famous  for  his  constant  travels  to  the  Crimea  and 
even  to  Tsarograd  itself,  and  yet  more  for  his  diligence  in 
seeking  and  ransoming  captives  in  the  slave  markets  of  the 
East,  came  with  Naviragh  and  the  Anardrats  as  interpreter. 
Pan  Michael  at  once  handed  him  the  sum  that  was  necessary 
for  the  ransom  of  Pan  Boski,  and,  as  the  wife  of  the  latter 
had  not  enough  money,  he  made  it  up  from  his  own  pocket; 
Basia  contributed  her  pearl  ear-rings  to  help  the  distressed 
lady  and  her  charming  daughter.  Pan  Seferovich,  Pretor  of 
Kamenets,  was  also  there — a  wealthy  Armenian,  whose 
brother  was  groaning  in  captivity  among  the  Tartars — and 
two  women  who  were  still  young  and  far  from  plain,  though 
rather  swarthy,  named  Pani  Neresevich  and  Pan!  Kyernovich. 
Both  had  husbands  in  captivity. 

(279) 


280  PAX  MICHAEL. 

The  majority  of  the  guests  were  in  great  distress,  but  there 
was  no  lack  of  happy  ones  also.  Father  Kaminski  had  sent 
his  neice,  Panna  Kaminska,  to  be  present  at  Shrovetide  in 
Ivhreptyov  and  under  Basia's  care,  and  one  day  the  younger 
Pan  Novovyeyski — Pan  Adam — broke  in  upon  them  like  a 
thunderbolt.  Having  heard  of  his  father's  arrival  from 
Khreptyov,  he  at  once  obtained  furlough  from  Pan  Rush- 
chyts,  and  hastened  to  receive  him. 

Young  Pan  Adam  had  greatly  altered  during  the  last  year 
or  two;  in  the  first  place,  his  upper  lip  was  thickly  shaded 
by  a  dark  short  moustache  which  did  not  conceal  his  teeth, 
that  were  white  as  those  of  a  wolf,  but  was  curled  and  shapely. 
In  the  second  place,  the  youth,  who  was  always  well  built,  had 
now  grown  to  be  almost  a  giant.  It  seemed  that  only  that 
great  head  could  carry  such  thick  and  bushy  hair,  and  only 
such  a  mighty  neck  could  support  that  head.  His  face,  which 
was  always  dark,  had  become  tanned  with  the  winds;  his  eyes 
glowed  like  coals  and  his  features  expressed  defiance.  A  large 
apple  could  be  concealed  so  easily  in  his  mighty  grasp  that  he 
could  play  "Which  one  will  you  have?"  with  it,  and  he  could 
grind  a  handful  of  nuts  on  his  knee  to  snuff.  His  whole  body 
made  for  strength,  otherwise  he  was  lean  and  slim  in  the 
waist,  but  his  chest  above  was  as  big  as  a  chapel. 

He  could  snap  horse-shoes  with  the  greatest  ease  and  tie 
iron  rods  in  a  bow  around  the  soldiers  necks,  he  looked  even 
bigger  than  he  really  was;  the  boards  creaked  under  him  as  he 
walked,  and  when  he  stumbled  against  a  bench,  it  was  splin- 
tered. 

In  a  word,  he  was  one  man  in  a  humdred,  in  whom  life, 
power,  and  boldness  seethed  like  water  in  a  pan;  it  seemed  as 
if  his  powers  could  not  find  room  even  in  his  mighty  body, 
and  that  there  was  a  flame  in  his  breast  and  head  and  one  half- 
expected  to  see  his  hair  smoking.  Sometimes  indeed  vapor 
did  arise  from  it,  for  he  was  famous  at  the  cups.  He  went 
into  battle  with  laughter  like  the  neighing  of  a  steed,  and  he 
used  his  sword  in  such  a  way  that  when  the  fight  was  over 
the  soldiers  would  go  to  examine  his  victims  and  marvel  at 
his  astonishing  strokes.  Moreover,  as  he  had  been  used  to 
the  Steppes  and  battle  and  vigils  from  early  life,  he  was 
cautious  and  farsighted,  notwithstanding  his  boisterousness; 
he  was  acquainted  with  every  Tartar  trick,  and  next  to  Pan 
Michael  and  Rushchyts  he  was  considered  the  best  border 
leader,  Notwithstanding  his  assurances  and  threats,  old 


PAN  MICHAEL.  281 

Novovyeyski  did  not  give  his  son  a  very  harsh  reception,  fear- 
ing that  if  he  offended  him  he  would  go  away  again  and  not 
come  back  for  another  eleven  years.  But  in  reality,  the  mean 
old  noble  was  secretly  pierced  with  this  son  who  had  not 
taken  any  money  away  with  him,  and  who  had  taken  good 
care  of  himself  in  the  world  and  gained  glory  among  his  own 
companions,  besides  the  good  will  of  the  Hetman  and  the 
rank  of  an  officer,  which  very  few  could  have  managed  to  do 
without  interest.  The  father  thought  that  the  youth  who  had 
run  wild  in  the  Steppes,  was  not  likely  to  bow  to  his  father's 
authority,  and  therefore,  it  would  be  better  not  to  put  it  to 
the  test.  So  the  son  fell  at  his  feet  as  was  right,  but  he 
looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes  and,  at  the  first  reproach,  he 
unceremoniously  replied: 

"Father,  your  lips  speak  complaint,  but  in  your  heart,  you 
are  glad,  as  you  should  be.  I  got  into  no  disgrace.  I  ran  away 
to  the  army  because  I  am  a  noble." 

"But  you  may  be  a  Mussulman/'  answered  the  father,  "as 
you  haven't  appeared  at  home  for  eleven  years." 

"I  did  not  show  my  face,  for  fear  of  being  punished,  which 
would  be  an  outrage  to  my  rank  and  dignity  <as  an  officer. 
I  waited  for  a  letter  of  forgiveness;  the  letter  didn't  come, 
nor  did  you  get  tidings  of  me." 

"But  aren't  you  afraid  now?" 

The  young  man  smiled  and  showed  his  white  teeth. 

"This  post  is  under  military  government  and  that  is  above 
even  a  father's  authority.  My  benefactor,  why  don't  you  em- 
brace me,  as  you  are  longing  to  do." 

With  these  words,  he  extended  his  arms  and  Pan  Novov- 
yeyski scarcely  knew  what  to  do.  It  was  certain  that  he  could 
not  quarrel  with  his  son  who  had  left  his  home  when  a  boy 
and  now  came  back  a  grown  man  and  a  celebrated  military 
officer.  Moreover,  Pan  No vovyey ski's  paternal  pride  was 
greatly  fed  by  one  thing  and  another,  and  so  he  would  gladly 
have  pressed  him  to  his  breast  but,  .  .  .  what  about  his 
own  dignity? 

But  the  son  clasped  him  in  his  embrace  and  made  the 
bones  of  the  old  noble  crack,  which  completely  vanquished 
him. 

"What  can  I  do?"  he  gasped.  "The  rascal  feels  that  he  is 
mounted  on  his  own  horse,  and  has  no  fear.  On  my  word  if 
I  were  in  my  own  home,  I  shouldn't  be  so  gentle,  but  what 
can  I  do  here.  Well  then,  embrace  me  again!" 


282  PAN  MICHAEL. 

And  after  the  second  embrace,  the  youth  hastened  to  in- 
quire after  his  sister. 

"I  ordered  her  to  be  kept  out  of  the  way  till  I  called  her," 
answered  his  father;  "the  girl  will  be  ready  to  jump  out  of 
her  skin." 

•  "For  Heaven's  sake!  where  is  she?"  cried  his  son,  and  he 
opened  the  door  and  began  to  shout  till  the  whole  place 
echoed:  "Evka,  Evka!" 

Evka  was  waiting  in  the  next  room,  and  rushed  in,  but  had 
scarcely  time  to  cry  "Adam !"  when  she  was  clasped  in  mighty 
arms  and  lifted  from  the  floor.  Her  brother  had  always  been 
very  fond  of  her;  in  the  old  days,  to  shield  her  from  their 
father's  tyranny,  he  would  very  often  take  the  credit  of  her 
faults  on  himself,  and  more  than  once  received  the  floggings 
which  should  have  been  hers.  Pan  Novovyeyski  was  an  old 
tyrant  at  home  and  very  harsh,  and  consequently  she  now  wel- 
comed that  strong  brother,  not  simply  as  a  brother,  but  as  a 
future  shelter  and  protection.  He  kissed  her  on  the  brow 
and  eyes  and  hands,  now  and  then  holding  her  away  from  him, 
gazing  at  her  and  crying  delightedly: 

"A  lovely  girl,  as  I  love  God!"  and  again: 

"Just  look  how  she  has  grown,  a  regular  stove,  not  merely 
a  maiden!" 

She  smiled  at  him  with  her  eyes.  Then  they  began  to  talk 
very  quickly  of  their  long  separation,  and  of  home,  and  the 
wars.  Old  Pan  Novovyeyski  hovered  round  them  muttering. 
He  was  greatly  impressed  with  his  son,  but  now  and  then  he 
seemed  to  be  considerably  disturbed  about  his  future  au- 
thority. That  period  was  one  of  great  parental  rule  which 
afterwards  increased  beyond  all  limits;  but  this  son  was  that 
warrior,  from  the  wild  border  posts  who  was  riding  his  own 
horse.  Pan  Novovyeyski  was  very  jealous  of  his  parental 
authority.  Still,  he  was  sure  that  his  son  would  always  pay 
him  respect  and  give  him  his  due,  but  the  question  was,  would 
he  always  yield  like  wax?  Would  he  put  up  with  everything 
as  he  had  when  a  boy?  "Bah!"  reflected  the  old  noble,  "if  I 
want  to  do  it,  I'll  treat  him  like  a  boy.  He  is  a  spunky  sub- 
lieutenant and  impresses  me,  as  God  is  dear  to  me!"  The 
end  of  it  was  that  Pan  Novovyeyski  felt  his  parental  love  in- 
creasing every  moment,  and  that  he  would  end  by  developing 
a  great  weakness  for  this  gigantic  son. 

In  the  meantime  Evka  was  twittering  like  a  bird  and  del- 
uging her  brother  with  questions.  When  was  he  coming 


PAN  MICHAEL.  283 

home,  and  wouldn't  he  settle  down  and  marry?  She  is  not 
quite  clear  about  it,  and  can't  be  sure,  but,  as  she  loves  her 
father,  she  has  heard  it  said  that  soldiers  are  prone  to  fall  in 
love.  "Bah!"  she  remembers  now,  it  was  Pani  Volodiyovski 
who  told  her  so.  How  kind  and  lovely  that  Pani  Volodiyovski 
is.  You  couldn't,  with  a  candle,  find  a  lovelier  or  better 
woman  in  all  Poland.  Perhaps  the  only  one  who  can  be  men- 
tioned in  the  same  breath  with  her,  is  Zosia  Boska." 

"And  who  is  Zosia  Boska?"  asks  Pan  Adam? 

"A  young  lady  who  is  staying  here  with  her  sister,  and 
whose  father  was  captured  by  the  Horde.  When  you  see  her, 
you  will  fall  in  love  with  her." 

"Let's  have  Zosia  Boska!"  cried  the  young  officer. 

His  father  and  Evka  laughed  at  his  readiness. 

"Love  is  like  death/'  said  the  son;  "it  passes  no  one  by. 
I  hadn't  a  hair  on  my  face,  and  Pani  Volodiyovski  was  quite 
a  girl,  when  I  fell  desperately  in  love  with  her.  Ah,  good 
God!  how  I  did  love  that  Bashka!  And  what  then?  Some- 
time I  will  tell  her,  I  thought.  I  did  tell  her,  and  the  answer 
came  like  a  blow  in  the  face.  Shoo !  cat,  leave  the  milk  alone! 
It  seemed  that  she  was  already  in  love  with  Pan  Michael,  and 
what's  the  use  of  talking? — she  was  right." 

"Why?"  asked  old  Pan  ISTovovyeyski. 

"Why?  for  this  reason!  because  without  boasting  I  can  say 
that  I  could  hold  my  own  with  the  sabre  against  any  one  else, 
but  he  wouldn't  need  to  play  with  me  while  you  could  repeat 
two  Paters.  Moreover,  he  is  a  matchless  fighter,  to  whom  even 
Rushchyts  would  take  off  his  cap.  Pan  Rushchyts,  even! 
Even  the  Tartars  love  him.  There  is  no  greater  soldier  in  the 
Commonwealth." 

"And  how  he  and  his  wife  do  love  each  other!  why,  it's 
enough  to  make  your  eyes  ache  to  look  at  them,"  cried  Evka. 

"Ah,  ha!  so  your  mouth  is  watering;  your  mouth  is  water- 
ing, for  your  time  has  come  too!"  exclaimed  Pan  Adam.  And, 
putting  his  hands  on  his  hips,  he  began  to  nod  his  head  at 
his  sister  like  a  horse,  and  smile,  but  she  answered  in  con- 
fusion: 

"I  haven't  a  thought  of  it." 

"Well,  there's  no  scarcity  of  officers  and  pleasant  fellows 
here." 

"But  I  don't  know  whether  father  has  told  you  that  Azya 
is  here,"  paid  Evka. 

"AzvR  Mellekhovieh  the  Lipkov!  I  know  him,  he's  a  fine 
soldier." 


284  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"But  you  are  not  aware  that  he  is  not  Mellekhovich,  but 
that  same  Azya  who  grew  up  beside  you/'  said  old  Pan  Novov- 
yeyski. 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  what's  that  you  say?  Only  think  of  it! 
that  idea  sometimes  occurred  to  me  too,  but  they  told  me 
that  his  name  was  Mellekhovich  and  so  I  thought  he  could 
not  be  .the  same  man.  Azya  is  ri  common  name  among  them. 
It  was  so  many  years  since  I  had  seen  him  that  I  couldn't  be 
sure.  Ours  was  rather  short  and  ugly,  but  this  one  is  very 
handsome." 

"He  is  ours^"  cried  old  Novovyeyski,  "or  rather  not  ours, 
for  do  you  know  whose  son  he  turns  out  to  be?" 

"How  should  I?" 

"He  is  the  son  of  the  great  Tukhay  Bey." 

The  young  man  struck  his  strong  hands  on  his  knees  till 
the  sound  echoed  through  the  house. 

"I  can't  believe  my  ears!  the  great  Tukhay  Bey.  If  that's 
true,  he  is  a  prince,  and  related  to  the  Khan.  There's  no 
better  blood  in  the  Crimea  than  that  of  Tukhay  Bey." 

"It  is  the  blood  of  a  foe." 

"It  was  so  in  the  father,  but  the  son  serves  us.  I  have 
myself  seen  him  under  fire  twenty  times.  Ah,  I  now  under- 
stand where  he  gets  that  devilish  daring.  Pan  Sobieski  hon- 
ored him  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  army,  and  made  him  a 
setnik.  I  am  glad  to  meet  him  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul; — 
a  tough  soldier!  I  will  welcome  him  with  my  whole  heart." 

"But  don't  be  too  familiar  with  him!" 

"Why  not?  Is  he  a  servant  of  mine  or  yours?  I  am  a 
soldier  and  so  is  he;  I  am  an  officer  and  so  is  he.  Bah!  if  he 
were  some  infantry  fellow  who  directs  his  men  with  a  reed, 
I  shouldn'^  have  a  word  to  say,  but  if  he  is  a  son  of  Tukhay 
Bey,  then  he  has  no  common  blood  in  his  veins.  He  is  a 
prince,  and  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said.  The  Hetman 
himself  will  have  him  ennobled.  How  should  I  turn  up  my 
nose  at  him,  when  I  am  in  brotherhood  with  Kulak  Murza, 
Bakhchyaga,,  and  Sukyman?  not  one  of  these  would  think 
himself  demeaned  by  herding  sheep  for  Tukhay  Bey." 

Evka  was  suddenly  tempted  to  kiss  her  brother  again,  and 
then  she  sat  down  close  to  him  and  began  to  stroke  his  shaggy 
hair  with  her  beautiful  hand. 

These  caresses  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Pan 
Michael. 

Pan  Adam  sprang  up  to  welcome  his  superior  officer,  and 


PAN   MICHAEL.  285 

immediately  began  to  explain  that  he  had  not  paid  his  respects 
to  the  commander  in  the  first  place,  because  he  had  not  come 
on  duty,  but  only  in  his  private  capacity.  Pan  Michael  cor- 
dially embraced  him  and  answered: 

"And  who  would  find  fault  with  you,  dear  comrade,  if  you 
should  first  go  and  fall  at  your  father's  feet  after  so  many 
years  of  separation.  If  it  had  been  a  matter  of  duty,  it  would 
have  been  otherwise,  but  have  you  no  messages  from  Pan 
Rushchyts?" 

"Only  respectful  greetings.  Pan  Rushchyts  went  to  Yahor- 
lik,  because  he  was  informed  that  there  were  a  great  many 
horse-tracks  in  the  snow.  My  colonel  received  your  letter 
and  sent  it  on  to  the  Horde  to  his  parents  and  relations  with 
instructions  to  search  and  make  inquiries  there,  but  he  did 
not  write  himself.  He  said:  "My  hand  is  too  heavy,  and  I 
have  no  experience  in  that  art!" 

"I  know  he  does  not  like  to  write,"  said  Pan  Michael. 
"With  him  the  sabre  is  everything." 

Here  the  little  knight  twisted  his  moustache  and  added, 
with  a  touch  of  boasting: 

"And  yet  you  vainly  hunted  Azya  Bey  for  two  months!" 

"But  your  lordship  has  swallowed  him  down  as  a  pike  does 
a  blackfish!"  enthusiastically  cried  Pan  Adam.  "Well,  God 
must  have  confused  his  mind  so  that  when  he  evaded  Pan 
Rushchyts,  he  ran  into  your  arms.  He  got  it." 

These  words  greatly  pleased  the  little  knight  and,  to  pay 
courtesy  with  courtesy,  he  turned  to  Pan  Novovyeyski  and 
said: 

"So  far,  the  Lord  Jesus  has  denied  me  a  son,  but  if  he  ever 
gives  me  one,  I  should  like  him  to  be  just  such  another  one 
as  this." 

"There  is  nothing  in  him,"  the  little  noble  replied,  "noth- 
ing at  all,  and  that  7s  the  end  of  it." 

But  notwithstanding  his  words,  his  breast  heaved  with 
gratification. 

"This  is  another  delicacy  for  me.    .    .   !" 

In  the  meantime  the  little  knight  stroked  Evka's  face,  and 
said  to  her: 

"You  see  that  I  am  no  child,  but  my  Bashka  is  almost  the 
same  age  as  you,  and  so  I  sometimes  think  that  she  ought  to 
have  some  pleasure  more  appropriate  for  her  years.  .  .  It  is 
true  that  everybody  here  loves  her  dearly,  and  I  hope  you  see 
some  justification  for  it." 


286 

"Dear  God!"  cried  Evka,  "in  all  the  world,  there  is  not 
such  another  woman.  I  said  so  only  a  moment  ago." 

The  little  knight  was  perfectly  delighted,  and  his  face 
grew  radiant  as  he  asked: 

"Ah,  so!  did  you  indeed?" 

"As  I  live,  she  did/'  cried  father  and  son,  in  chorus. 

"Very  well!  put  on  your  smartest  clothes,  for,  unknown  to 
:>ashka,  I  have  fetched  a  band  from  Kamenets  to-day.  I  told 
(hem  to  cover  the  instruments  with  straw  and  I  explained 
to  her  that  they  were  Gypsies  coming  to  shoe  the  horses. 
To-night  we'll  have  great  dancing;  she  loves  it,  although  she 
likes  to  play  the  dignified  matron." 

Then  Pan  Michael  began  to  rub  his  hands  and  was  highly 
delighted  with  himself. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

The  snow  fell  so  heavily  that  it  filled  the  moat  of  tin 
military  post  to  the  brink,  and  drifted  against  the  stockacK. 
like  a  bank.  It  was  a  stormy  night  outside,  but  the  great 
hall  of  Khreptyov  was  blazing  with  light.  There  were  two 
violins,  a  bass  viol,  a  flageolet,  a  French  horn,  and  two  bugles. 
The  fiddlers  worked  away  with  all  their  might.  The  cheeks 
of  the  players  of  the  flageolets  and  bugles  were  distended 
till  their  eyes  became  bloodshot.  The  old  officers  sat  on 
benches  round  the  walls  near  each  other, — like  gray  doves 
sitting  on  the  roof  in  front  of  their  cotes — and  watched  the 
dances  as  they  drank  their  wine  and  mead.  Basia  and 
Pan  Mushalski  were  the  first  pair,  the  latter,  notwithstand- 
ing his  years,  being  as  famous  a  dancer  as  an  archer.  Basia 
wore  a  silver  brocade  dress  edged  with  ermine,  and  looked 
like  a  half-blown  rose  in  new-fallen  snow.  Everybody  mar- 
velled at  her  beauty  and  from  the  breasts  of  many  of  them 
arose  the  involutary  exclamation,  "Save  us!"  for  although 
Panna  Evka  and  Panna  Zosia  were  not  quite  so  old  and  more 
than  usually  beautiful,  yet  Basia  surpassed  them  all.  Pleas- 
ure and  happiness  were  dancing  in  her  eyes.  As  she  flew  past 
the  little  knight,  she  thanked  him  with  a  smile  for  the 
entertainment.  Between  her  parted  rosy  lips  gleamed  her 
white  teeth  and  she  flashed  in  her  silver  robe  shining  like 
the  rays  of  the  sun  or  stars  and  bewitched  heart  and  eye  with 
the  combined  beauty  of  a  child,  a  woman,  and  a  flower. 

The  slashed  sleeves  of  her  robe  fluttered  behind  her  like 
the  wings  of  a  giant  butterfly,  and,  when  she  lifted  her 
skirts  and  made  a  courtesy  to  her  partner,  one  would  have 
thought  that  she  was  floating  on  the  earth  like  a  vision,  or 
like  one  of  those  fairies  which  skim  along  the  brinks  of  the 
ravines  on  bright  summer  nights.  Outside  the  hall  the  sol- 
diers pressed  their  wild  hairy  faces  against  the  lighted  panes 
and  looked  into  the  room  as  they  flattened  their  noses  against 
the  glass.  They  were  greatly  delighted  to  see  how  their 
beloved  lady  excelled  everybody  in  beauty,  for  they  were 

(287) 


288  PAX   MICHAEL. 

fierce  partisans  of  hers,  and  so  I  hoy  wore  not  sparing  in  justs 
and  remarks  on  Panna  Evka  or  Panna  Zosia  and  every  time 
Basia  came  near  the  wondow,  they  cheered  her  loudly. 
Volodiyovski  swelled  like  dough  under  the  influence  of  yeast 
and  kept  time  with  Basia's  movements  by  nodding  his 
head;  Pan  Zagloba  stood  near  holding  a  goblet  in  his  hand, 
and  kept  time  with  his  foot,  and  spilt  his  liquor  on  the  floor, 
and  now  and  then  he  and  the  little  knight  would  turn  and 
gaze  at  each  other  in  an  ecstacy  of  delight. 

Basia  gleamed  and  sparkled  all  over  the  room,  more 
joyous  and  bewithching  every  moment.  Such  was  the  life 
of  the  wilderness  for  her!  First  a  battle,  then  a  hunt,  then 
entertainment,  dancing  and  music  and  a  crowd  of  soldiers, 
the  greatest  of  them  all  being  her  husband  and  he,  both 
tender  and  beloved;  she  knew  that  she  was  loved  and  ad- 
mired and  received  the  homage  of  everybody  and  that  this 
made  the  little  knight  happy;  consequently,  she  herself  was 
as  happy  as  the  birds  at  the  advent  of  Spring  when  they  sing 
and  rejoice  in  the  sweet  May  weather. 

The  second  couple  consisted  of  Azya  and  Xoveska,  who 
wore  a  crimson  jacket.  The  young  Tartar,  who  was  com- 
pletely intoxicated  with  the  white  vision  gleaming  in  front 
of  him,  did  not  address  a  word  to  Evka;  but  she,  under  the 
impression  that  he  was  silent  with  emotion,  tried  to  encour- 
age him  by  pressing  his  hand,  first  lightly,  and  then  more 
strongly.  Azya  also  pressed  her  hand  so  strongly  that  she 
could  scarcely  restrain  a  cry  of  pain,  but  he  did  so  involun- 
tarily, for  he  was  thinking  only  of  Basia  and,  in  his  heart, 
he  was  swearing  a  terrible  oath  that  she  should  be  his,  even 
if  he  had  to  waste  half  Russia  with  fire.  Sometimes,  when 
he  recollected  himself,  a  desire  seized  him  to  clutch  Evka 
by  the  throat  and  throttle  her,  and  gloat  over  her,  because 
she  was  pressing  his  hand  and  stood  between  him  and  Basia. 
Sometimes  his  cruel  falcon  glance  transfixed  the  poor  girl, 
and  her  heart  began  to  beat  more  strongly  with  the  thought 
that  it  was  love  that  made  him  gaze  at  her  so  fiercely. 

Pan  Adam  Xovovyeyski  and  Zosia  Boska  formed  the  third 
couple.  She  looked  like  a  forget-me-not,  and  danced  along 
beside  him  with  lowered  eyes,  while  he  looked  like  a  wild 
horse  and  pranced  like  one.  Splinters  were  flying  from  under 
his  iron  heels  and  his  hair  was  standing  upright:  his  face 
was  as  red  as  a  beet;  his  nostrils  dilated  like  a  Turkish  war- 
horse  and  he  swept  Zosia  around  and  carried  her  through 


PAX   MICHAEL.  289 

Ihc  air  like  a  leaf  in  a  whirlwind.  His  spirits  rose  every 
moment,  because  he  often  lived  on  the  edge  of  the  steppes 
for  months  without  even  the  sight  of  a  woman.  The  very 
first  glance  at  Zosia  had  so  delighted  him  that  lie  was  des- 
perately in  love  with  her  in  another  instant.  Now  and  then 
he  would  look  at  her  downcast  eyes  and  flushed  cheeks,  and 
it  almost  made  him  snort  with  pleasure,  and  then  his  heels 
would  strike  fire  more  vigorously,  and  he  would  hold  her, 
as  they  turned  in  the  dance,  more  strongly  to  his  broad 
breast  and  burst  into  a  loud  fit  of  happy  laughter;  his  love 
and  joyousness  seethed  up  higher  in  him  each  instant,  but 
Zosia's  poor  litle  heart  was  fearful;  but  it  was  not  altogether 
a  disagreeable  fear,  because  she  was  pleased  with  this  tempest 
of  a  man,  who  whirled  her  along  and  took  her  with  him, — 
a  regular  dragon!  She  had  seen  many  different  knights  in 
Yavorov,  but,  till  -now,  she  had  never  come  across  such  a 
iicry  one,  not  one  that  danced  as  he  did,  nor  one  that  carried 
her  along  in  that  way.  A  regular  dragon  indeed!  What 
could  she  do  with  him  as  it  was  bevond  her  power  to  resist. 
? 

The  next  couple  consisted  of  Panna  Kaminska  dancing 
with  a  courteous  knight,  and  she  was  followed  by  Pani  Kyer- 
emovich  and  Pani  Neresevich,  who,  although  the  wives  of 
merchants,  were  invited  to  the  party,  because  they  were  both 
of  courtly  breeding  and  very  rich.  The  dignified  Naviragh 
and  the  two  Anardrats  watched  the  Polish  dancers  with 
growing  astonishment;  the  old  men  were  becoming  more 
noisy  over  their  cups  of  mead,  sounding  like  grasshoppers 
among  the  stubble.  But  all  the  voices  were  drowned  by  the 
music  and  in  the  middle  of  the  hall  general  delight  was  in- 
creasing. 

Presently,*  Baeia  left  her  partner  and  ran  panting  to  her 
husband  and  clasped  her  hands  to  him. 

"Michael,"  she  prayed,  "outside  it  is  so  cold  for  the  soldiers, 
order  a  barrel  of  gorzalka  to  be  given  to  them." 

He  was  more  than  usually  happy  and  so  he  kissed  her  hands 
and  exclaimed: 

"If  it  would  please  you,  you  would  have  my  very  blood." 

Then  he  hastened  out  himself  to  inform  the  soldiers  to 
whom  they  owed  the  barrel,  because  he  wanted  them  to  thank 
Basin  and  love  her  all  the  more. 

For  answer  they  raised  such  a  shout  as  to  shake  the  snow 
from  the  roof,  whereupon  the  little  knight  cried: 
19 


290  PAN   MICHAEL. 

"Fire  off  your  muskets  as  a  salute  to  the  mistress.7' 

On  his  return  he  found  Basia  dancing  with  Azya.  When 
the  Tartar  encircled  that  lovely  form  with  his  arm,  and  felt 
the  warmth  of  her  contact  and  her  breath  on  his  cheek,  his 
eyes  turned  upwards  and  the  whole  world  seemed  to  be  swim- 
ming before  him;  in  his  heart  he  relinquished  Paradise  and 
eternity,  for  of  all  the  Houris,  this  was  the  sole  one  he  de- 
sired. Then  Basia,  as  she  saw  the  passing  gleam  of  Evka's 
crimson  jacket,  and  was  anxious  to  know  if  Asya  had  yet 
proposed,  asked: 

"Have  you  told  her?" 

"No." 

"Why  not?" 

"The  time  has  not  yet  come,"  he  said,  with  a  strange  ex- 
pression. 

"But  are  you  not  deeply  in  love?" 

"To  the  death,  to  the  death!"  replied  Tukhayovich,  in  low 
and  hoarse  tones,  like  the  croak  of  a  raven. 

And  they  danced  on  directly  behind  Pan  Adam,  who  had 
gone  to  the  front.  The  others  had  changed  partners,  but 
Pan  Adam  would  not  release  Zosia,  only  now  and  then  he 
would  find  a  seat  for  her  on  a  bench  to  rest  and  recover  her 
breath,  and  then  he  would  start  afresh. 

At  last,  he  stopped  in  front  of  the  musicians  and  cried  to 
them,  as  he  held  Zosia  with  one  arm: 

"Play  the  Krakoviak,  go  on." 

And  obediently  to  his  orders,  they  imemdiately  started. 

Pan  Adam  beat  time  with  his  foot  and  sang  with  a  mighty 
voice, 

"  Bright  torrents  run 
In  the  Dniester  river 
Afterwards  they  are  lost ;  ^ 

So  is  lost  in  thee,  oh,  maiden, 
Lost  in  thee,  my  heart, 
U-ha." 

And  he  roared  out  that  U-ha  in  such  a  Cossack  way,  that 
Zosienka  nearly  died  with  fright.  The  dignified  Xaviragh, 
who  was  standing  near,  was  scared  and  so  were  the  two 
learned  Anardrats,  but  Pan  Adam  led  the  dance  on  again. 
Twice  he  circled  the  room  and  halting  in  front  of  the  band, 
again  sang  of  his  heart: 

"  Lost,  but  not  perished, 
In  spite  of  the  Dneister 
In  the  depths  it  will  fish  out 
A  little  golden  ring. 
U  ha." 


PAN  MICHAEL.  2$I 

"Very  pretty  verses,"  cried  Pan  Zagloba,  "I  am  very  clever 
at  that  kind  of  thing,  and  have  made  many  of  them.  Bark, 
bark  away,  knight,  bark  away,  and  when  you  find  the  ring, 
I'll  continue  like  this: 

"  Every  maiden  is  flint 
Every  swain  is  steel 
There  will  be  no  end  of  sparks 
If  you  strike  strongly, 
U-ha." 

"Vivat,  vivat,  Pan  Zagloba,  "shouted  all  the  officers  ii. 
mighty  tones  till  the  dignified  Naviragh  and  the  two  learned 
Anardrats  were  greatly  alarmed  and  gazed  at  each  other  in 
great  astonishment. 

Pan  Adam  made  the  circuit  twice  again  and  at  last  seated 
his  partner  on  the  bench,  panting  and  amazed  at  the  daring 
of  her  cavalier.  She  was  very  much  taken  with  him,  he  was 
so  honest,  and  brave,  though  a  regular  thunderstorm,  but  she 
was  greatly  confused,  because  she  had  never  met  a  man  like 
this  before,  and  so  She  cast  down  her  eyes  more  than  ever 
and  sat  silent  as  a  shy  child. 

"Why  are  you  so  silent,  is  anything  grieving  you,"  asked 
Pan  Adam. 

"Because  my  father  is  in  captivity,"  Zosia  replied,  in  faint 
tones. 

"Don't  think  of  that,"  said  the  young  man,  "the  proper 
thing  is  to  dance.  Look  at  this  room,  here  are  some  dozens  of 
officers,  and  in  all  probability  not  one  will  die  a  natural  death, 
but  from  the  arows  of  the  Infiidels  or  in  captivity.  One  to- 
day and  another  to-morrow." 

"Every  man  on  the  border  has  lost  some  one,  and  we  take 
our  pleasure  so  that  God  may  not  think  that  we  murmur  at 
our  duty.  That's  the  way.  Dancing  is  the  proper  thing. 
Smile,  little  maiden,  raise  your  eyes,  for  I  think  that  you  care 
for  me." 

Zosia  did  not  lift  her  eyes  to  be  sure,  but  she  raised  the 
corners  of  her  mouth  and  two  dimples  appeared  in  her  rosy 
cheeks. 

"Do  you  love  me  a  little?"  he  asked. 

And  Zosia,  in  still  lower  tones  answered,  "And  .  .  . 
yes.  .  .  .  'J 

On  hearing  this  Pan  Adam  sprang  to  his  feet  and  caught 
Zosia's  hands  and  began  to  smother  them  with  kisses,  saying! 

"Lost!  there's  no  use  talking,  I  love  you  to  death,  I  don't 


292 


PAN   A//C7/.1/;/,. 


want  anyone  but  you,  my  beautiful  darling.  Go<l  save  mo, 
how  dearly  I  love  you.  In  the  morning,  I  will  fall  at  yoi-r 
mothers'  feet.  What's  that?  In  the  morning!  I'll  do  it  to- 
night, so  as  to  make  sure  of  you." 

A  deafening  roar  of  musketry  outside  the  window  drowiud 
Zosia's  reply.  The  delighted  soldiers  were  firing  a  vivat  for 
Basia;  the  window  panes  rattled  and  the  walls  shook.  The 
dignified  Naviragh  and  the  tw'o  learned  Anardrats  were  scan"! 
for  the  third  time,  but  Zagloba,  who  stood  by,  tried  to  quiet 
them  saying, 

"Apud  Polonos  nunquam  sine  clamore  et  strepitu  gaud i a 
fiunt." 

As  it  turned  out,  they  had  only  been  waiting  for  that 
salvo  of  musketry  to  revel  to  the  utmost.  The  usual  cere- 
monious manner  of  the  nobles  now  began  to  give  place  to 
the  wildness  of  the  steppes.  Music  again  blared  out  and  dan- 
cing broke  out  again  like  a  tempest.  Eyes  flashed  and  glit- 
tered and  steam  rose  from  the  hair.  Even  the  oldest  joined 
in  the  dance,  and  every  moment  loud  shouts  were  heard,  and 
they  drank  and  sported  and  drank  toasts  out  of  Basia's 
shoe  and  fired  with  pistols  at  Evka's  boot  heels.  Khrcptvov 
roared  and  reveled  and  saoig  till  the  dawn,  till  the  beasts 
in  the  neighboring  wilderness  concealed  themselves  in  the 
thickest  woods  from  fear. 

As  this  was  happening  almost  on  the  brink  of  a  dreadful  war 
with  the  power  of  the  Turk,  and  terror  and  ruin  were  hover- 
ing above  all  these  people,  the  dignified  Naviragh  was  amazed 
beyond  measure  at  these  Polish  soldiers,  and  the  two  learned 
Anardrats  were  no  less  astonished. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

Everybody  slept  late  the  next  morning,  except  the  guard 
and  the  little  knight,  who  never  let  pleasure  interfere  with 
duty.  Pan  Adam  was  up  early,  for  Panna  Zosia  Boska 
ahvjiv?  seemed  to  him,  even  more  charming  in  the  morning. 
Donning  his  gayest  clothes,  he  went  into  the  hall,  where  they 
had  danced  the  night  before,  to  ascertain  if  he  could  hear  any 
movement  in  the  adjoining  rooms  which  were  occupied  by 
the  ladies. 

lit-  heard  a  noise  in  the  room  occupied  by  Zosia  Boska  but 
the  youth  was  so  impatient  to  get  sight  of  Zosia  that  he  drew 
bis  dagger  and  began  to  pick  out  the  moss  and  clay  from  be- 
IwH-n  the  boards,  so  that,  please  God,  with  one  eye  he  might 
have  a  glimpse  of  Zosia  through  the  hole. 

7a.u'loba,  who  at  that  moment,  was  passing  with  his  beads  in 
his  hand?,  found  him  thus  employed,  and  seeing  at  once,  what 
he. was  up  to,  he  stole  up  to  him  on  the  tips  of  his  toes,  and 
•began  to  beat  him  across  the  shoulders  with  his  sandal- wood 
heads. 

Pan  Adam  jumped  aside  and  seemed  to  shake  with 
laughter,  but  in  reality,  he  was  greatly  disconcerted,  and  the 
•  Id  man  followed  him,  and  kept  on  striking  at  him. 

"Oh  you  Turk,  oh  you  Tartar,  there  you  have  it,  there  I 
exorcise  you,  where  are  your  morals,  you  want  to  get  a  look  at 
u  woman,  there  you  have  it,  there." 

"Sir,"  exclaimed  Pan  Adam,  "'tis  not  right  to  use  holy 
hi -ads  as  a  whip.  Let  me  go,  I  didn't  mean  anything  wrong." 

"You  say  it's  not  right  to  beat  a  man  with  a  rosary.  That's 
not  true.  The  Palm  is  sacred  on  Palm  Sunday,  and  yet, 
people  use  it  for  striking,  besides,  once  these  were  infidel 
hr;!ds  and  belonged  to  Snban  Kazi,  but  I  snatched  them  from 
him  at  Zbaraj,  and,  subsequently,  they  were  blest  by  the 
-tolic  Xuncio.  Look!  they're  genuine  sandal-wood." 

"!!'  they  are  true  sandal-wood,  they  are  scented." 

"Beads  are  scented  to  me,  and  a  maiden  to  you,  I  must  give 

(293) 


294  PAN 

your  shoulders  a  good  dressing  yet,  for  there's  nothing  like 
a  rosary  for  driving  out  the  devil." 

"I  didn't  mean  anything  wrong.  .  .  On  my  life,  I  didn't/' 

"Were  you  only  trying  to  bore  a  hole  through  piety?" 

"Not  piety,  but  love,  which  is  so  extraordinary,  that  I'm 
not  certain  that  it  won't  make  me  burst  like  a  grenade. 
What's  the  use  of  deception  when  it's  true.  Gadflies  don't 
worry  a  horse  in  the  autumn  as  much  as  this  disease  worries 
me." 

"Take  care  that  this  is  not  sinful  desire,  for  when  I  came  in 
you  couldn't  stand  still,  but  were  striking  your  heels  together, 
as  if  you  were  standing  on  a  burning  log." 

"As  true  as  I  love  God,  I  didn't  see  anything,  for  I  had 
only  just  begun  to  pick  at  the  crack." 

"Ah,  youth,  .  .  .  blood  isn't  water,  even  I  sometimes  have 
to  restrain  myself  still,  for  in  me,  there  is  a  lion  seeking 
whom  he  may  devour.  If  your  intentions  are  pure,  you  are 
thinking  of  marriage." 

"Pure  thoughts  of  marriage,  Almighty  God,  what  should  I 
be  thinking  of.  I  am  not  only  thinking  of  it,  but  I  feel  as  if 
someone  were  pricking  me  with  an  awl.  Does  not  your  lord- 
ship know  that  I  proposed  to  Panna  Boska  last  night,  and 
have  received  my  father's  consent?" 

"The  boy  is  made  of  sulphur  and  powder.  The  hangman 
take  thee!  If  that  is  so,  it's  quite  another  matter,  but  tell  me 
how  it  happened." 

"Last  night,  Pani  Boska  went  to  her  room  to  fetch  her 
handkerchief  for  Zosia  and  I  followed  her.  She  turned 
round,  crying: 

"Who's  there,  and  I  fell  at  her  feet,  crying,  'Mother,  beat 
me  if  you  will,  but  give  me  Zosia,  my  bliss,  my  love.'  But 
Pani  Boska  recovering  herself,  said,  'Everybody  praises  you 
and  regards  you  as  a  noble  knight,  but  I  will  not  give  you  an 
answer  to-day,  nor  to-morrow,  but  later,  and  you  must  get 
your  father's  permission.'  Then  she  went  out  thinking  that 
I  was  overcome  by  wine.  The  fact  is,  I  had  a  little  in  my 
head." 

"That's  nothing.  It  was  in  everybody's  head.  Didn't  you 
see  the  pointed  caps  askew  on  the  heads  of  Naviragh  and  the 
Anardrats  towards  the  last?" 

"I  didn't  notice,  for  I  was  trying  to  think  of  the  easiest  way 
to  get  my  father's  consent." 

"Well,  was  it  a  difficult  matter?" 


PAN    MICHAEL.  295 

"Towards  morning,  we  both  retired  to  our  room,  and  as  it's 
well  to  strike  the  iron  while  it  is  hot,  I  said  to  myself,  it  was 
necessary  to  get  at  least  an  inkling  of  the  view  my  father 
would  take  of  the  business.  'Father/  I  said,  'listen  to  me, 
I  want  Zosia  dreadfully,  and  I  want  your  consent,  and  if  you 
won't  give  it,  as  God  lives,  I'll  go  and  take  service  under  the 
Venetians,  and  that's  the  last  you'll  hear  of  me.  Wasn't  he 
in  a  rage  with  me  then!  He  cried,  'Oh,  what  a  son  I've  got, 
you  can  shift  without  the  permission.  Go  to  the  Venetians, 
or  take  the  girl,  but  all  I  have  to  say  is  that  you  won't  get  a 
cent  either  of  my  own  or  your  mother's  money,  for  it  all  be- 
longs to  me." 

Zagloba  protruded  his  lower  lip. 

"Ah,  that's  bad." 

"Wait  a  moment,  when  I  heard  that,  I  said:  But  am  I  ask- 
ing that,  or  do  I  need  it?  I  want  nothing  but  your  blessing, 
for  the  possessions  of  the  Infidels  that  have  fallen  to  my  sabre 
are  enough  to  rent  a  good  estate  or  even  to  purchase  a  village. 
That  what  belonged  to  mother  be  Evka's  do-wry;  I  will  add 
two  handfulls  of  turquoise  and  some  silk  and  brocade,  and  if 
a  bad  year  comes,  I  can  help  my  father  with  cash." 

"That  greatly  excited  my  father's  curiosity,  and  he  asked: 
'Are  you  so  rich,  for  God's  sake,  whence  did  it  come?  Was  it 
plunder,  for  when  you  left  us,  you  were  as  poor  as  a 
dervish?'" 

"Fear  God,  father,  I  replied,  it  is  eleven  years  since  I  began 
to  wield  a  sabre,  and,  as  they  say,  it's  not  the  worst  in  the 
world,  and  shouldn't  I  gather  something  together,  I  was 
present  at  the  pillage  of  rebel  towns  in  which  marauders  and 
Tartars  had  collected  the  richest  booty;  I  fought  against 
Murza's  and  robbers,  and  spoil  kept  on  coming.  I  took  only 
what  belonged  to  me,  without  injustice  to  anybody,  but  it 
kept  increasing,  and  if  a  fellow  didn't  have  some  sport  some- 
times, my  property  would  now  be  twice  as  much  as  what  your 
father  left  you." 

"What  did  the  old  man  say  to  that?"  asked  Zagloba,  joy- 
fully. 

"My  father  was  astonished,  for  he  hadn't  expected  that  and 
immediately  began  to  complain  of  my  spendthrift  habits.  He 
said  there  would  be  an  increase  if  it  were  not  that  this  thrower 
to  the  birds,  this  struting  fellow,  who  only  cares  to  plume 
himself  and  play  the  great  lord,  squanders  everything  and 
eaves  nothing.  Then  his  curiosity  got  the  better  of  him,  and 


296  PA*   MICHAEL. 

he  began  to  try  and  find  out  in  detail  wlial.  I  own,  and,  seeing 
that  I  could  make  best  progress  by  swearing  with  that  tar,  I 
not  only  concealed  nothing,  but  overstated  it,  though  gener- 
ally, I  don't  exaggerate,  for  I  say  to  myself,  'Truth  is  oats, 
and  lies  chaff/  My  father  rested  his  head  on  his  hands  and 
fell  to  thinking  and  planning:  This  or  that  estate  might 
have  been  purchased/  he  said,  'this  or  that  lordship  might 
have  been  maintained.  We  might  have  lived  on  both  sides 
of  the  border  and  in  your  absence,  I  might  have  looked  after 
everything,'  and  my  worthy  father  began  to  shed  tears.  .  .  . 
'Adam/  he  said,  'I  am  very  pleased  with  that  girl  for  she  is 
under  the  Hetman's  protection,  then  there  may  be  some  profit 
in  that,  too?'  'Adam/  he  said,  'mind  you  respect  this,  my 
second  daughter,  and  don't  squander  her  property,  or  I 
should  never  forgive  you  to  my  dying  day,  and  I,  my  gracious 
benefactor,  cried  out  indignantly  at  the  mere  suspicion  of  any 
injustice  to  Zosia.  So  father  and  1  fell  into  each  others  arms 
and  mingled  our  tears  until  the  first  cock  crowed." 

"The  old  rascal!"  murmured  Zagloba,  and  then  he  added 
aloud: 

"So  there  may  be  a  wedding  soon,  and  fresh  merry-makings 
at  Khreptyov,  particularly  as  it  is  Shrovetide.", 

"If  he  depended  on  me,  there  would  be  one  to-morrow," 
hastily  cried  Pan  Adam,  "but  what  of  it  sir;  my  leave  will 
soon  be  up,  and  duty  is  duty,  so  that  I  must  return  to  Rash- 
kov.  I  can't  tell  when  Pan  Eushchyts  will  grant  me  another 
leave  of  absence.  But  I'm  not  so  sure  that  the  ladies  will  not 
raise  obstacles.  For  when  I  refer  to  the  old  mother,  she  says, 
'My  husband  is  in  captivity.'  What's  that  to  do  with  me,  I'm 
not  keeping  the  father  in  prison,  am  I?  I'm  very  much 
afraid  of  such  hindrances,  if  it  weren't  for  that,  I  would  grasp 
father  Kaminski's  soutane  and  wouldn't  release  him  till  he 
had  joined  Zoska  and  me.  But  when  women  once  get  a  thing 
into  their  heads,  you  can't  get  it  out  with  pinchers.  I'd  give 
my  last  cent  I  have  for  papa,  myself,  but  there's  no  way  to  do 
so.  Moreover,  nobody  knows  where  he  is,  perhaps  he  is  dead, 
and  then  there's  a  fine  business.  If  they  want  me  to  wait  for 
him,  I  might  have  to  wait  till  the  last  judgment  day." 

"Pyotrovich,  Naviragh,  and  the  Anardrats  will  set  off  to- 
morrow, and  we  shall  soon  have  news." 

"Jesus  save  us!  Have  I  got  to  wait  for  news?  There 
can't  be  anything  before  Spring.  In  the  meantime,  I  shall 
waste  away,  as  God  is  dear  to  me,  my  kind  benefactor,  every- 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


297 


one  has  confidence  in  your  wisdom  and  experience;  won't  you 
beat  this  waiting  out  of  the  heads  of  these  women.  Kind  sir, 
there'll  be  war  in  the  Spring.  God  knows  what  may  happen, 
besides,  I  want  to  marry  Zoska  and  not  papa.  Why  must  I 
go  and  sigh  to  him?" 

"Induce  the  women  to  go  and  dwell  at  Rashkov.  It  will 
be  easier  to  get  news  there,  and  if  Pyotrovich  discovers  Boska, 
he  won't  be  far  from  you.  I  repeat,  I  will  do  what  I  .can, 
but  you  ask  Pani  Basia  to  help  you.  I  won't  fail  to  do  so,  I 
won't  fail,  for  the  devil.  .  .  . 

Then  the  door  creaked  and  Pani  Boska  came  in.  But  be- 
fore Zagloba  could  turn  round,  young  Novovyeyski  had  already 
dropped  down  at  full  length  at  her  feet,  and,  taking  up  an 
immense  extent  of  the  floor  with  his  gigantic  body,  began  to 
cry: 

"I  possess  my  father's  consent,  give  me  Zoska,  mother. 
Give  me  Zoska,  give  me  Zoska,  mother." 

"Give  him  Zosia,  mother,"  added  Zagloba  in  his  deep  bass 
voice.  The  noise  attracted  people  in  the  adjacent  rooms. 
Basia  entered,  and  then,  Pan  Michael  from  his  office,  and 
presently,  Zosia  herself.  The  girl  never  thought  what  was 
the  matter,  but  her  face  immediately  grew  crimson,  and, 
clasping  her  hands,  she  dropped  them  in  front  of  her,  pressed 
her  lips,  and  stood  by  the  wall  with  downcast  eyes.  Pan 
Michael  ran  for  old  Novovyeyski.  When  he  arrived,  he  was 
greatly  incensed  that  his  son  had  not  entrusted  the  affair  to 
him,  and  left  it  to  his  eloquence,  but  nevertheless,  he  sup- 
ported the  request. 

Pani  Boska,  who  indeed  was  without  support  of  any  kind, 
at  last  burst  into  tears  and  acceded  to  Pan  Adam's  request,  as 
well  as  to  proceed  to  Rashkov  and  there  await  her  husband. 
Then  still  weeping,  she  turned  to  her  daughter. 

"Zosia,"  she  asked,  "are  you  willing  to  fall  in  with  Pan 
Adam's  plans?" 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Zosia.  She  stood  against  the 
wall  with  downcast  eyes,  as  usual,  and  only  after  some  mo- 
ments' silence,  did  she  answer  in  scarcely  audible  tones: 

"I  will  go  to  Rashkov." 

"My  darling,"  shouted  Pan  Adam,  as  he  sprang  to  her  sifle, 
and  threw  his  arms  round  her. 

Then  he  shouted  till  the  walls  shook: 

"Zosia,  is  mine,  mine,  mine." 


)  CHAPTER    XV. 

Young  Pan  Novovyeyski  set  out  for  Rashkov  immediate! j 
after  his  betrothal  to  procure  and  furnish  lodgings  for  Pan) 
and  Panna  Boska,  and  two  weeks  afterwards  a  whole  convoy 
of  guests  left  Khreptyov.  It  included  Naviragh,  the  new  An- 
ardrats,  the  Armenians,  Kyeremovich,  and  Neresevich,  Se- 
ferevich,  the  Boska  ladies,  the  two  Pyotroviches,  and  Old 
Pan  Novovyeyski,  and  numerous  attendants,  as  well  as  armed 
followers  for  the  protection  of  wagons,  draft-horses  and  beasts 
of  burden.  The  Pyotroviches  and  the  delegates  of  the  Pa- 
triarch of  Uzmiadzin  were  merely  to  rest  at  Rashkov  to  re- 
ceive tidings  about  their  route,  and  then  proceed  to  the 
Crimea.  The  rest  of  the  party  intended  to  settle  at  Rashkov 
for  a  time  and  wait  at  any  rate  till  the  first  thaws  for  the 
return  of  the  prisoners — namely,  Boska,  the  younger  Sefer- 
evich,  and  the  two  merchants  who  had  long  been  waiting  in 
grief. 

The  way  was  very  hard  as  it  lay  through  dreary  stretches 
of  wilderness  and  precipitous  ravines,  luckily,  there  was 
plenty  of  crisped  snow  to  furnish  excellent  sleighing,  and  the 
presence  of  the  commands  in  Mohilov,  Yampol,  and  Rashkov 
assured  their  safety.  Azba  Bey  was  slain,  and  the  robbers 
either  scattered  or  hanged,  and  in  the  winter,  the  Tartars 
did  not  go  out  on  customary  trails  for  want  of  grass. 

Moreover,  Pan  Adam  had  promised  to  meet  them  with  a 
few  dozen  cavalry,  if  Pan  Rushchyts  would  grant  permission. 
They  therefore  set  out  in  high  spirits;  Zosia  was  ready  to  go 
(  to  the  world's  end  for  the  sake  of  Pan  Adam.  Pani  Boska 
and  the  two  Armenian  ladies  had  hopes  of  speedily  recovering 
their  husbands.  Rashkov,  it- is  true,  was  situated  on  the  con- 
fines of  Christendom  in  -a  terrible  wilderness,  but  they  were 
not  going  there  for  a  lifetime,  however,  nor  to  stay  very 
long.  War  would  break  out  in  the  Spring,  there  was  talk 
of  war  everywhere  along  the  border.  It  was  necessary  that 
their  loved  ones  when  found,  should  return  with  the  first 
warm  breeze  if  they  wished  to  save  their  heads, 

(298) 


PAN   MICHAEL.  299 

Evka  stayed  behind  at  Khreptyov  with  Basia.  Pan  ISTovo- 
vyeyski  did  not  insist  on  taking  his  daughter  along  with 
him,  particularly  as  he  was  leaving  her  in  a  house  of  such 
worthy  people. 

"I  will  send  her  in  the  utmost  safety,"  said  Basia,  "or 
rather,  I  will  take  her  myself,  because,  for  once  in  my  life, 
1  should  like  to  see  the  whole  of  that  terrible  border,  of 
which  I  have  heard  so  much  since  my  childhood.  In  the 
Spring,  when  the  trails  were  black  with  chambuls  my  hus- 
band would  not  allow  me  to  go,  but  now,  if  Evka  stays  with 
me,  I  shall  have  a  good  excuse.  I  shall  begin  to  insist  in 
two  weeks,  and  by  the  third,  I  shall  certainly  obtain  per- 
mission/' 

"I  hope  your  husband  will  not  let  you  go  in  the  winter, 
unless  well  attended." 

"If  he  can,  he  will  go  with  me,  if  not,  Azya  will  accom- 
pany us  with  a  couple  hundred  or  more  of  cavalry,  for  I  hear 
that  in  any  case  he  is  to  go  to  Rashkov." 

Here  the  discussion  ended,  and  Eva  remained  at  Khrep- 
tyov.  Basia,  however,  had  other  schemes  besides  the  rea- 
sons she  had  given  Pan  Novovyeyski.  She  wanted  to  facili- 
tate Asya's  advances  to  Eva,  because  she  was  beginning  to 
get  uneasy  about  the  young  Tartar.  It  is  true  that  when- 
ever he  was  questioned  by  Basia,  he  said,  that  he  loved 
Evka  and  that  his  old  feeling  had  not  died  out,  but  when- 
ever he  was  with  Eva,  he  did  not  say  a  word.  In  the 
meantime,  the  girl  had  fallen  wildly  in  love  with  him  in 
the  wilderness  of  Khreptyov.  His  savage  but  magnificent 
beauty,  his  infancy  spent  under  the  strong  hand  of  Novo- 
vyeyeski,  his  wild  but  princely  birth,  the  mystery  with  which 
he  had  been  surrounded,  and,  lastly,  his  military  renown 
had  completely  dazzled  her.  She  was  only  waiting  for  the 
moment  to  reveal  to  him  her  heart,  burning  like  a  flame,  and 
to  cry,  "Azya,  I  have  loved  thee  from  childhood,  and  to  cast 
herself  into  his  arms  and  vow  to  love  him  till  death."  In 
the  meantime  he  clenched  his  teeth  and  kept  silence. 

At  first  Evka  thought  that  the  presence  of  her  brother 
and  father  acted  as  a  restraint  upon  Azya,  and  kept  him  from 
confessing.  Later  on,  she  also  began  to  be  disturbed,  for 
while  such  unavoidable  obstacles  as  her  father  and  brother 
stood  in  the  way,  especially,  before  Azya  had  been  ennobled, 
he  might  open  his  heart  to  her;  and  the  more  obstacles  that 
were  coming  between  them,  the  more  quickly  and  frankly 
should  he  do  so, 


300  jP^AT   MICHAEL. 

But  he  kept  silence. 

At  last  doubt  crept  into  the  heart  of  the  maiden,  and  she 
began  to  bewail  her  misfortune  to  Basia,  who  comforted 
her  by  sajdng: 

"I  can't  deny  that  he  is  a  strange  fellow,  and  extremely 
reticent,  but  I  am  sure  that  he  is  in  love  with  you,  because 
he  has  often  told  me  so,  and  moreover  he  does  not  look  at 
you  as  he  looks  at  others." 

To  this,  Evka  gloomily  replied,  as  she  shook  her  head, 
"Differently,  it  is  certain;  but  whether  that  gaze  is  full  of 
love  or  hatred,  I  cannot  decide." 

"Eva,  dear,  don't  talk  so  foolishly,  what  reason  has  he 
to  hate  you." 

"But  what  reason  has  he  to  love  me?" 

Here  Basia  would  stroke  Eva's  face,  "But  why  does 
Michael  love  me,  and  why  did  your  brother  fall  in  love  with 
Zosia,  almost  before  he  had  seen  her?" 

"Adam  was  always  precipitate." 

"Azya  is  proud,  and  dreads  a  refusal,  especially  from  your 
father;  as  your  brother  has  been  in  love  himself,  he  would 
more  quickly  comprehend  the  agony  of  that  feeling.  That's 
how  it  is.  Don't  be  foolish  Evka,  and  have  no  fear.  I  will 
prompt  Azya,  and  you  will  see  with  what  resolution  he  will 
come  forward."  In  fact,  Basia  had  a  talk  with  Azya,  that 
very  day  and  immediately  afterwards  she  hurried  in  to  Eva. 

"It's  all  settled,"  she  cried,  as  she  entered. 

"What  is?"  cried  Eva,  blushing. 

"I  said  to  him,  what  are  you  thinking  of,  to  treat  me  so 
ungratefully.  I  have  kept  Eva  here  on  purpose  that  you 
might  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity,  but  if  you  don't, 
you  must  know  that  in  two  weeks,  or  in  three  at  the  furthest, 
I  shall  send  her  Eashkov.  I  may  go  with  her  myself,  and 
then  you  will  be  out  of  it.  His  face  altered,  when  he  heard 
of  the  journey  to  Rashkov,  and  he  began  to  bow  his  head 
to  the  ground  before  me.  I  then  asked  him  what  he  in- 
tended to  do,  and  he  answered  'I  will  confess  what  is  in  my 
heart  on  the  way.  Along  the  way,'  he  said,  'will  be  the  best 
opportunity,  along  the  way  what  is  to  hapepn,  will  happen, 
and  what  is  foreordained.  I  will  confess  everything,  I  will 
reveal  everything,  for  I  cannot  live  any  longer  in  this  tor- 
ment/ His  lips  began  to  quiver  in  his  anguish  because  he 
has  received  some  troublesome  letters  from  Kamenets.  He 
told  me  that,  in  any  case  he  must  go  to  Rashkov,  that  my 


PAN   MICHAEL.  301 

husband  has  already  had  instructions  from  the  Hetman  re- 
garding that  affair;  but  the  order  did  not  mention  any  date, 
as  it  depends  on  some  negotiations  in  which  he  is  engaged 
with  the  leaders.  'But  now/  he  said,  'the  time  approaches, 
and  I  must  go  to  them  on  the  other  side  of  Rashkov,  and 
therefore  I  can  escort  your  ladyship  and  Panna  Eva  at  the 
same  time.'  In  reply,  I  told  him  that  it  was  uncertain 
whether  I  should  go  or  not,  as  it  depended  on  Michael's  con- 
sent. He  was  greatly  disturbed  when  he  heard  that.  Oh, 
you  are  a  fool,  Evka,  you  say  that  he  doesn't  love  you,  but 
he  fell  at  my  feet  and  when  he  besought  me  to  go  also,  I 
assure  you,  he  absolutely  wailed,  so  that  I  almost  shed  tears 
over  him.  Do  you  know  why  that  was?  He  told  me  once 
'I  will  confess  what  is  in  my  heart,  but  unless  I  have  the 
pi  dyers  of  your  ladyship,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  do  anything 
with  the  Novovyeyskis.  I  shall  only  excite  rage  and  enmity 
in  them  and  in  myself.  My  lot,  my  suffering,  and  my  salva- 
tion are  in  your  ladyship's  hands,  for  if  your  ladyship  will 
not  go,  then  it  were  better  for  me  that  the  earth  would 
swallow  me  or  burning  flames  consume  me/  That's  how 
he  loves  you.  It's  awful  to  think  about.  And  if  you  only 
could  have  seen  how  he  looked  at  that  moment,  you  would 
have  been  terrified." 

"No,  I  do  not  fear  him,"  Evka  replied,  as  she  kissed 
Basia's  hands. 

"Go  along  with  us,  go  along  with  us,"  she  repeated,  with 
emotion,  "do  go,  only  you  can  save  us,  only  you,  will  not  be 
afraid  to  tell  my  father,  only  you  can  do  anything,  go  with 
us,  I  will  fall  at  Pan  Michael's  feet  and  obtain  permission 
for  you.  Without  you,  my  father  and  Azya  will  spring  at 
each  other  with  their  knives.  Go  with  us,  do  go/  ' 

Then  she  fell  down  again  before  Basia  and  began  to  em- 
brace her  knees,  watering  them  with  her  tears. 

"God  grant  that  I  may  go,"  Basia  answered.  al  will  lay 
everything  before  Michael,  and  will  not  cease  to  tease  him. 
It's  quite  safe  now  to  go  alone  even.  How  much  more  with 
such  a  large  escort.  Perhaps  Michael  will  go  himself,  and  if 
not,  he  is  not  heartless,  and  will  give  me  permission;  he 
will  object  at  first,  but  only  let  me  become  miserable,  and 
he  will  imemdiately  begin  to  hover  about  me,  and  look  into 
my  eyes,  and  give  in.  I  would  rather  have  him  go,  more- 
over,, because  I  should  be  dreadfully  lonely  without  him.  But 
what  is  to  be  done.  I  will  go  with  you,  anyhow,  and  give 


302  MICHAEL. 

you  some  comfort.  In  this  case,  there  is  no  question  of  my 
own  wishes,  but  of  the  fate  of  both  of  you.  Michael  loves 
you  and  Azya.  .  .  he  will  agree." 

After  that  talk  with  Basia,  Azya  flew  to  his  own  room, 
as  full  of  pleasure  and  exhultation  as  if  he  had  recovered 
sudden  health  after  a  dangerous  illness. 

A  moment  before  his  soul  had  been  torn  with  wild  despair; 
at  that  moment  he  received  a  short  and  dry  letter  from  Pan 
Bogush,  which  ran  as  follows: 

"My  dear  Azya:  I  have  stopped  at  Kamenets  and  will 
not  go  to  Khreptyov  now;  in  the  first  place,  because  I  am 
wearied  out,  and  in  tihe  second,  because  there  is  no  reason  why 
I  should.  I  have  been  to  Yavorov.  The  Hetman  not  only 
refuses  to  give  you  the  written  authority  to  throw  his  dignity 
over  your  wild  plans,  but  he  strictly  ordered  you  on  pain  }f 
forfeiting  his  favor  to  desist  immediately.  I  also  have  re- 
flected on  what  you  said  to  me,  and  find  it  worthless.  It 
would  be  a  sin  for  an  educated  Christian  people  to  enter  into 
such  schemes  with  Infidels,  and  we  should  be  dishonored 
in  the  face  of  the  whole  world  if  we  granted  the  privileges 
of  nobility  to  criminals,  marauders,  and  shedders  of  inno- 
cent blood.  Curb  yourself  in  this  affair,  and  do  not  think 
of  the  rank  of  hetman  as  it  is  not  for  you,  even  though  you 
are  the  son  of  Tughay  Bey.  But  if  you  want  to  quickly  re- 
cover the  Hetman's  good  will,  be  satisfied  with  your  present 
position,  and,  more  particularly,  hasten  the  matter  with  Kry- 
chinski,  Tarasovski,  Adurovich,  and  the  others,  for  in  this 
way,  you  will  be  rendering  the  greatest  service. 

"I  enclose  the  Hetman's  instructions  for  your  future  move- 
ments and  an  official  order  for  Pan  Volodiyovski,  so  that 
there  may  be  no  obstacles  to  your  going  out  and  coming  in 
with  your  men.  Of  course,  you  wouldn't  have  to  go  sud- 
denly; you  will  hold  a  meeting  with  those  leaders;  only  be 
quick  and  send  me  a  full  report  to  Kamenets  of  what  you 
have  learned  on  the  opposite  bank.  Commending  you  to 
God's  favor,  I  remain,  ever  with  good  wishes, 

MAETISAN"  BOGUSH,  of  Zyemblyts, 

Podstolik  of  Novgorod." 

On  receipt  of  this  letter,  the  young  Tartar  broke  out  into 
awful  rage.  First  he  tore  it  up  into  little  pieces,  and  then 
stabbed  the  table  with  his  knife  again  and  again;  then  he 
threatened  to  take  his  own  life  and  that  of  the  devoted 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

Ilalun,  who  fell  on  his  knees  and  prayed  him  to  take  no 
?«M'ious  step  until  his  fury  and  despair  had  somewhat  abated. 
Tliis  letter  was  a  cruel  blow  to  him.  The  castles  raised  by  his 
pride  and  ambition  were  all  blown  up  as  if  by  powder,  and 
his  plans  were  destroyed.  He  might  have  become  the  third 
Iletman  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  held  its  destinies  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand;  but  now,  he  learns  that  he  is  to  remain 
an  insignificant  officer,  the  height  of  whose  ambition  is  a 
patent  of  nobility.  In  his  glowing  visions,  he  had  seen 
crowds  bowing  down  before  him  daily,  and  now  he  will 
have  to  bow  down  before  others.  There  is  no  advantage 
for  him  either  in  being  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  or  having 
the  blood  of  warrior  rulers  running  in  his  veins,  or  having 
great  thoughts  in  his  mind — it  is  nothing,  all  for  nothing. 
He  will  live  without  recognition  and  die  forgotten  in  some 
petty  distant  military  post.  His  wing  is  broken  by  one 
word.  One  "no"  has  determined  that  henceforth  he  shall 
not  be  free  to  soar  to  the  skies  like  an  eagle,  but  that  he 
must  crawl  on  the  earth  like  a  worm. 

But  all  this  even  is  as  nothing  compared  with  the  happi- 
ness which  he  has  lost.  She,  for  whose  possession  he  would 
gladly  have  resigned  life  and  eternity;  she,  for  whom  his 
heart  was  burning  like  flame,  she,  whom  he  loved  with  eyes, 
heart,  soul,  and  blood,  will  never  be  his.  This  letter  has  de- 
prived him  of  her,  in  addition  to  a  Hetman's  baton.  Kmy- 
elnitski  might  carry  off  the  wife  of  Chaplinski;  Azya  as  a 
Iletman,  might  carry  off  the  wife  of  another  man,  and  defend 
himself  against  the  whole  Commonwealth  even,  but  how 
could  Azya  take  her,  when  he  was  only  a  lieutenant  of  Lip- 
kov  Tartars,  serving  under  her  husband's  command. 

As  he  thought  of  all  this,  the  world  grew  dark  before  his 
eyes,  and  empty,  and  full  of  gloom,  and  the  son  of  Tukhay 
Bey  thought  that  it  would  be  better  for  him  to  die  than 
to  live  on  without  any  object  in  life,  without  happiness,  or 
hope  of  having  the  woman  he  loved.  This  bore  the  more 
heavily  upon  him,  because  he  had  not  expected  such  a  blow, 
indeed,  considering  the  Commonwealth's  extremity,  he  had 
satisfied  himself,  more  surely  day  by  day  that  the  Hetman 
would  authorize  his  intentions.  Now  he  saw  his  hopes  blown 
away  like  mist  before  the  wind.  What  was  left  for  him? 
To  give  up  all  thought  of  glory  and  greatness  and  happiness; 
but  he  was  not  the  man  to  do  that.  In  the  first  few  moments, 
he  was  swept  away  by  the  madness  of  rage  and  despair.  He 


304 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


was  consumed  with  fire  and  burning  with  anguish,  and  he 
howled  and  gnashed  his  teeth  and  fierce  and  revengeful 
thoughts  engrossed  his  mind.  He  panted  for  revenge  on  the 
Commonwealth,  the  Hetman,  Pan  Michael,  and,  even,  Ba- 
sia.  He  wanted  to  call  together  his  Lipkov  Tartars  and 
slaughter  the  garrison,  and  the  officers,  and  Khreptyov  entire, 
slay  Pan  Michael,  and  abduct  Bashka,  carrying  her  across  the 
Moldavian  border,  down  to  the  Dobrudja,  and  to  Tsarograd 
itself,  and  even  to  the  Asian  deserts. 

But  the  faithful  Halim  attended  him,  and  when  he  had 
got  over  his  first  rage  and  despair,  he  himself  recognized  the 
futility  of  all  those  designs.  In  this  also  Azya  was  like 
Khmyelnitski,  for,  as  in  the  latter,  in  him  also  the  lion  and 
the  serpent  had  their  abode  side  by  side.  What  would  be  the 
result;  if  he  were  to  attack  Khreptyov  with  his  faithful  Lip- 
kovs?  Would  Pan  Michael,  who  was  as  vigilant  as  a  crane, 
allow  himself  to  be  taken  by  surprise;  and  even  if  so,  would 
that  celebrated  warrior  allow  himself  to  be  slain,  more  es- 
pecially as  the  soldiers  who  were  with  him  were  more  nu- 
merous and  better  fighters?  Finally,  even  if  Azya  were  to 
put  an  end  to  Pan  Michael,  what  could  he  do  then?  If  he 
were  to  go  along  the  river  towards  Yahorlik,  he  would  have 
to  wipe  out  the  posts  at  Mohilov,  Yampol  and  Rashkov;  if 
lie  were  to  cross  to  the  Moldavian  bank,  there  were  the  per- 
kulabs,  Pan  Michael's  friends,  and  Habareskul  of  Khotsim 
himself,  his  sworn  brother.  If  he  were  to  go  to  Doroshenko, 
there  were  Polish  posts  at  Bratslav;  and  even  in  the  winter, 
the  steppes  were  full  of  scouting  parties.  Considering  all 
this,  Tukhay  Bey's  son  felt  his  powerlessness,  and  his  malig- 
nant heart  first  spurted  forth  flames  and  then  hid  itself  in 
the  deepest  despair,  just  as  a  wounded  wild  animal  creeps 
into  a  dark  open  cave  and  keeps  still. 

And  as  excessive  pain  is  its  own  destruction  and  at  last 
sinks  into  torpor,  so  at  length,  torpor  finally  took  possession 
i  of  him. 

It  was  just  at  that  moment  that  they  told  him  that  the 
Colonel's  wife  wanted  to  speak  to  him. 

When  Azya  returned  from  the  interview,  Halim  scarcely 
recognized  him.  The  Tartar's  face  had  lost  its  expression 
of  callous  despair:  his  eyes  glittered  like  a  wild  cat,  his  face 
was  radiant  and  his  white  teeth  gleamed  under  his  mous- 
tache; in  his  savage  beauty  he  resembled  the  terrible  Tukhay 
Bey. 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


305 


"Master,"  asked  Halim,  "what  comfort  has  God  granted 
thy  spirit?" 

Azya  answered: 

"Halim,  God  creates  the  bright  day  after  the  dark  night 
and  commands  the  sun  to  rise  out  of  the  sea"  (here  he 
grasped  the  old  Tartar  by  the  shoulders).  "In  a  month  she 
will  be  mine  forever." 

And  such  light  spread  over  his  dark  face  as  made  it  ab- 
solutely beautiful,  and  Halim  bowed  before  him. 

"Oh,  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  thou  art  great  and  mighty,  and 
the  hatred  of  the  unbelievers  cannot  harm  thee." 

"Listen,"  cried  Azya. 

"I  am  listening,  son  of  Tukhay  Bey." 

"I  will  go  beyond  the  blue  sea,  where  the  snows  only  lie 
on  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  and,  if  I  return  to  this  land, 
it  will  be  at  head  of  chambuls  in  number  like  the  sands 
of  the  sea  and  the  leaves  in  these  wildernesses,  and  I  will 
bring  fire  and  sword  with  me.  But  thou,  Halim,  the  son  of 
Kurbluk,  will  set  out  to-day  and  find  Krychinski,  and  tell 
him  to  come  quickly  with  his  men  to  the  bank  opposite  to 
Eashkov.  And  tell  Adurovich,  Moravski,  Aleksandrovich, 
Grokholski,  Tvorkovski  with  every  living  man  of  the  Lipkov 
and  Cheremis  Tartars  to  warn  the  troops.  Let  them  give 
orders  to  the  chambuls  in  winter  quarters  with  Doroshenko 
to  create  disturbances  on  the  Uman  side,  in  order  that  the 
Polish  forces  may  be  lured  deep  into  the  steppes  from  Mo- 
hilov,  Yampol,  and  Rashkov.  Let  no  forces  be  left  along 
the  way  by  which  I  pass  so  that  when  at  last  I  leave  Rashkov 
behind  me,  there  will  be  nothing  but  ashes  and  smoking 
ruins." 

"God  help  thee,  my  master,"  replied  Halim. 

And  he  bowed  again  and  again,  and  the  son  of  Tukhay 
Bey  leaned  over  him  and  repeated  many  times. 

"Hasten  the  messengers,  hasten  the  messengers,  for  there 
is  only  a  month  left." 

Then  he  dismissed  Halim,  and  when  he  was  alone,  he 
began  to  pray,  for  his  heart  was  full  of  happiness  and  grati- 
tude to  God. 

And  as  he  was  praying,  he  glanced  involuntarily  through 
the  window  at  his  Lipkovs  who  were  just  leading  their  horses 
to  the  wells  for  water  and  the  square  was  black  with  the 
throng.  The  Lipkovs,  singing  their  monotonous  songs  in  low 
tones,  began  to  draw  up  the  buckets  and  fill  the  troughs  with 
20 


PAN  MICHAEL. 

water.  Two  columns  of  steam  were  issuing  from  the  nos- 
trils of  each,  horse  and  obscuring  its  head.  Suddenly  Pan 
Michael  issued  from  the  main  building  in  sheepskin  coat  and 
cow  hide  boots,,  and  approaching  his  men,  began  to  speak 
to  them.  They  listened  to  him,  holding  themselves  erect  and 
removing  their  caps  which  was  against  the  custom  of  Ori- 
entals. When  he  saw  him,  Azya  supended  his  prayer  and 
muttered, 

"You  are  a  falcon,  but  you  won't  fly  where  I  shall,  you 
will  remain  behind  at  Khreptyov  in  sorrow  and  pain/' 

After  speaking  to  the  soldiers,  Pan  Michael  re-entered  the 
building,  and  the  songs  of  the  Lipkovs,  the  snorting  of  the 
horses,  and  the  shrill  plaintive  creaking  of  the  wells  were 
heard  again  in  the  square. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

As  Basia  had  foreseen,  the  little  knight  immediately  op- 
posed her  plans  when  he  became  acquainted  with  them,  and 
said  he  would  never  consent  because  he  could  not  go  himself 
and  would  not  let  her  go  without  him;  but  from  every  quarter 
he  was  then  besieged  with  persistent  entreaties,  which  soon 
bent  his  will. 

Basia  did  not  insist  as  much  as  he  expected,  because  she 
was  very  anxious  to  be  with  her  husband,  and  the  journey  lost 
half  its  charm  without  him;  but  Evka  knelt  down  before  the 
little  knight,  and  kissed  his  hands  and  besought  him,  by  the 
love  he  bore  for  Basia,  to  allow  her  to  go. 

"No  one  else  would  dare  to  approach  my  father  on  such  a 
matter,  nor  I,  nor  Azya,  nor  even  my  brother.  Only  Basia 
can  do  that,  for  he  cannot  refuse  her  anything." 

Pan  Michael  replied: 

"Basia  does  not  occupy  herself  with  matchmaking,  and 
besides,  you  have  to  come  back  here,  so  let  her  do  it  on  your 
return." 

"God  only  knows  what  may  happen,  before  we  return," 
Evka  replied  with  tears,  "the  only  thing  certain  is,  that  I 
shall  die  of  grief,  though  for  an  orphan  like  me  whom  no  one 
pities,  death  is  the  best  thing." 

The  little  knight  had  an  excessively  tender  heart,  and  so 
he  began  to  strand  up  and  down  the  room.  Above  everything, 
he  did  not  want  to  part  with  his  Basia,  even  for  a  day, 
much  less  for  two  weeks.  However,  it  was  evident  that  he 
was  greatly  moved  at  these  prayers,  for  a  night  or  two  after- 
wards, he  said: 

"If  I  could  only  accompany  you!  But  that  is  impossible, 
for  duty  prevents." 

Basia  sprang  to  his  side,  and  putting  her  rosy  mouth 
against  his  cheek,  began  to  beg: 

"Go  Michael,  dear,  do  go,  do  go." 

"It  is  absolutely  impossible,"  Pan  Michael  answered  de- 
cisively. 

(307) 


MICHAEL. 

Two  more  days  went  by.  In  the  interval,  the  little  knight 
asked  Zagloba's  advice  as  to  what  he  ought  to  do,  but  Zagloba 
refused  to  counsel  him. 

"If  the  only  obstacles  are  your  own  feelings/'  he  said,  "I 
have  nothing  to  say.  Decide  for  yourself.  The  place  will  be 
lonely  here  without  the  little  haiduk.  .  If  it  weren't  for  my 
years  and  the  trying  road,  I  would  go  myself,  for  there  is  no 
living  without  her/' 

"But  you  see  there  really  are  no  obstacles,  it  is  rather 
frosty  weather,  but  that  is  all;  as  for  the  rest,  everything  is 
quiet  and  all  along  the  road  there  are  military  posts/' 

"In  that  case,  decide  for  yourself." 

After  this  conversation,  Pan  Michael  began  to  waver  and 
ponder  over  two  things.  He  wras  sorry  for  Evka.  He  also 
hesitated  whether  it  was  wise  to  send  the  girl  alone  with  Azya 
on  such  a  long  journey,  and  also  whether  it  was  right  to 
refuse  to  help  people  who  are  devoted  to  you  when  it  is  so 
easy  to  do  so.  After  all,  what  was  the  real  objection.  Only 
Basia's  being  away  for  two  or  three  weeks.  Even  if  it  were 
only  for  the  sake  of  pleasing  Basia  by  letting  her  see 
Mohilov,  Yampol,  and  Rashkov,  why  shouldn't  she  be  in- 
dulged? In  any  case,  Azya  would  have  to  go  with  his  com- 
pany to  Rashkov,  and  this  would  provide  an  escort  more  than 
sufficient  considering  the  late  destruction  of  the  marauders 
and  the  quietness  of  the  Horde  during  the  winter. 

The  little  knight  grew  more  and  more  yielding,  and  when 
they  saw  it,  the  ladies  renewed  their  importunities,  one  de- 
claring that  it  was  -a  matter  of  kindness  and  duty,  and  the 
other,  uttering  cries  and  lamentations.  At  last  Azya  came 
and  bowed  before  the  crowd.  He  said  that  he  was  quite  aware 
of  his  unworthiness  of  such  a  favor,  but  that  he  had  exhibited 
so  much  affection  and  devotion  to  the  Volodiyovskis,  that  he 
ventured  to  make  this  petition.  He  owed  a  debt  of  gratitude 
to  both,  because  they  had  not  allowed  him  to  be  insulted, 
even  before  he  was  known  to  be  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey. 

He  could  never  forget  that  the  colonel's  wife  had  dressed 
his  wounds  and  had  not  only  behaved  to  him  like  a  gracious 
mistress,  but  like  a  mother.  He  had  lately  proved  his  grati- 
tude in  the  fight  with  Azba  Bey,  and,  if  God  willed,  in  the 
future,  he  would  lay  down  his  life,  and  shed  his  last  drop  of 
blood  for  the  life  of  a  lady  if  it  were  necessary. 

He  then  began  to  speak  of  his  ancient  and  ill-starred  love 
for  Evka.  He  could  not  live  without  her,  he  had  continued  to 


PAN  MICHAEL.  309 

love  her  through  long  years  of  absence,  though  he  was  without 
hope,  and  it  would  never  cease.  But  there  was  an  old  ani- 
mosity between  him  and  Pan  Novovyeyski,  and  their  former 
relations  as  master  and  servant  formed,  as  it  were,  a  wide 
chasm  between  them.  Only  the  lady  could  reconcile  them, 
and  if  she  did  not  succeed  in  that,  at  least,  she  could  protect 
the  dear  girl  from  the  tyranny,  and  confinement,  and  blows 
of  her  father. 

Yolodiyovski,  who  would,  doubtless,  have  rather  had 
Basia  not  interfere  in  the  matter,  but,  as  he  himself  was 
fond  of  doing  kindnesses  for  people,  he  was  not  surprised  at 
his  wife's  good  heart.  However,  he  did  not  yet  give  Azya  an 
affirmative  reply,  and  even  steeled  himself  against  Evka's 
incessant  tears.  But  he  shut  himself  up  in  his  office  and 
began  to  meditate. 

Finally  one  evening,  he  came  in  to  supper  with  a  pleasant 
face,  and  when  it  was  ended,  he  suddenly  said  to  Azya: 

"Azya,  when  must  you  start?" 

"In  a  week,  your  lordship,"  replied  the  Tartar,  with  secret 
anxiety.  "By  that  time,  Halim  will  surely  have  brought  the 
negotiations  with  Krychinski  to  a  conclusion." 

"Order  the  big  sleigh  to  be  repaired,  because  we  will  have 
to  take  two  ladies  to  Rashkov." 

On  hearing  this,  Basia  clapped  her  hands  and  darted  to 
her  husband's  side.  Evka  quickly  followed  her,  and  then 
Azya  bowed  himself  ait  the  little  knight's  knees  in  such  rap- 
ture that  the  little  knight  had  to  disengage  himself. 

"Let  me  alone,"  he  said,  "but  what's  the  matter?  When 
it's  possible,  to  help  anybody,  it's  difficult  not  to  do  so  unless 
the  man  is  entirely  hardened.  And  I  am  not  a  tyrant.  But 
Basia,  my  beloved,  you  must  come  back  soon,  and  Azya, 
you  must  guard  her  faithfully,  for,  in  that  manner,  you  will 
best  show  your  gratitude.  Come,  come,  leave  me  alone." 

Here  his  lips  began  to  quiver,  and  then  he  said  more 
jovially,  to  keep  up  his  spirits: 

"Women's  tears  are  the  worst  things  to  endure.  I  am  quite 
overcome  at  the  sight  of  them.  But  Azya,  you  have  not  only 
me  and  my  wife,  but  this  lady  who  has  followed  you  about 
like  a  shadow,  constantly  keeping  her  grief  before  my  eyes. 
You  must  repay  her  for  such  devotion." 

"I  will  repay  her,  T  will  repay  her,"  cried  Azya  in  peculiar 
tones,  and,  grasping  Kvka's  hands,  he  kissed  them  so  wildly, 
that  it  looked  rather  as  if  he  wanted  to  bite  them. 


3IO  PAti    MICHAEL. 

"Michael,"  suddenly  cried  Zagloba,  pointing  to  Basia, 
"what  shall  we  do  here  without  this  kitten?" 

"It  will  be  dreadful,  said  the  little  knight,  "by  God  it  will 
indeed  be  dreadful." 

Then  he  added  with  more  composure: 

"But  the  Lord  God  may  bless  this  good  action  later.  .  .  , 
Do  you  understand?" 

In  the  meantime,  the  little  kitten  poked  her  little  inj 
quisitive  shining  head  in  between  them. 

"What  are  you  saying?" 

"Nothing,"  replied  Zagloba,  "we  were  only  saying  that  the 
storks  would  certainly  come  in  the  Spring." 

Basia  began  to  rub  her  face  against  her  husband,  as  if  she 
were  a  cat  indeed. 

"Michael,  dear,  I  shall  not  stay  away  long,"  she  said  in  a 
low  tone. 

After  this  talk  they  held  counsel  about  the  journey  for 
several  days.  Pan  Michael  saw  to  everything  himself,  and 
ordered  the  sleigh  to  be  got  ready  in  his  presence  and  lined 
with  skins  of  foxes  killed  in  the  autumn.  Zagloba  brought  his 
own  fur  robe  to  cover  her  feet  on  the  way.  There  were  to  be 
sleighs  with  a  bed  and  provisions,  and  Basra's  pony  was  to 
go  along,  too,  so  that  she  might  leave  the  sleigh  at  dangerous 
spots,  because  Pan  Michael  was  particularly  nervous  about  the 
approach  of  Mohilov,  which  was  indeed  a  precipitous  descent. 
Though  there  was  not  the  least  danger  of  an  attack,  the  little 
knight  ordered  Azya  to  take  every  precaution,  to  have  men 
always  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  advance,  and  never  spend  a  night 
on  the  road,  except  at  places  where  soldiers  were  posted,  and 
to  start  ait  dawn  and  not  linger  on  the  way." 

The  little  knight  thought  of  everything  to  the  smallest 
detail,  so  that  with  his  own  hand,  he  loaded  Basia's  pistols 
for  the  holsters  in  her  saddle. 

At  last  came  the  moment  of  departure.  It  was  not  yet 
light,  when  two  hundred  of  the  Lipkov  Tartar  cavalry  was 
standing  ready  in  the  square.  There  was  bustle  in  the  chief 
room  of  the  commander's  house.  Bright  flames  were  leaping 
from  the  pine  logs  on  the  hearths.  The  little  knight.  Pan 
Zagloba,  Mushalski,  Nyenashinyets,  Khromyka,  and  Motov- 
idlo,  accompanied  by  the  officers  of  the  Light  Companies,  had 
come  to  take  leave.  Basia  and  Evka,  still  warm  and  flushed 
with  sleep,  were  sipping  hot  wine  before  starting.  •  Pan 
Michael  was  sitting  by  his  wife,  with  his  arms  around  her 


PAN    MICHAEL.  311 

waist,  while  Zagloba  was  pouring  out  for  her,  crying  every 
time  he  did  so,  "Have  some  more,  for  its  frosty  weather." 
Bashka  and  Evka  were  wearing  male  garments,  for  that  was 
the  way  women  travel  on  the  frontier.  Basia  had  a  sabre, 
a  shuba  of  wild-catskin  edged  with  weasel,  and  an  ermine  cap 
with  earlaps,  very  wide  trousers  which  looked  like  a  skirt,  and 
soft  lined  boots  as  high  as  her  knees.  In  addition  to  this, 
they  had  warm  cloaks  and  shubas  with  hoods  to  cover  their 
faces.  Basia's  face  was  not  covered  as  yet,  and  its  beauty 
astonished  the  soldiers  as  always.  Some  of  them,  neverthe- 
less, looked  with  approval  at  Evka,  whose  mouth  seemed  made 
for  kisses,  and  others  scarcely  knew  which  to  choose,  so 
charming  did  they  both  appear  to  the  soldiers,  who  whispered 
to  each  other: 

"It's  hard  for  a  man  to  live  in  such  a  desert.  Happy  Colo- 
nel! happy  Azya!  ah!" 

The  flames  crackled  joyously  on  the  hearths  and  the  cocks 
began  to  crow.  Day  was  gradually  dawning,  clear  and  frosty. 
The  roofs  of  the  shed  and  the  soldiers'  quarters,  thickly  coated 
with  snow,  assumed  a  bright  rose  tint. 

Outside  in  the  square  could  be  heard  the  snorting  of  the 
horses  and  the  crunching  footsteps  of  the  soldiers  and  dra- 
goons who  had  gathered  together  from  their  various  quarters 
to  say  good  bye  to  Basia  and  the  Tartars. 

At  last  Pan  Michael  said,  "It  is  time." 

As  she  heard  it,  Basia  sprang  up  and  cast  herself  into  the 
arms  of  her  husband.  He  pressed  his  lips  to  hers  and  held 
her  to  his  heart  with  all  his  might,  kissing  her  eyes  and  brow 
and  lips  again.  *It  was  a  long  minute,  for  'they  dearly  loved 
each  other. 

After  the  little  knight  it  was  Zagloba's  turn,  and  then, 
the  other  officers  came  to  kiss  her  hand,  and  she  cried  in  her 
childish  silver  ringing  tones: 

"Good  health  to  you  all,  gentlemen,  good  health  to  you  all." 

Then  she  and  Eva  put  on  their  mantles  with  slits  for 
sleeves,  and  then  their  hooded  shubas  till  they  both  entirely 
disappeared  under  the  robes.  The  wide  door  was  thrown 
open,  and  a  frosty  vapor  blew  in,  and  immediately  the  whole 
company  found  itself  in  the  square.  Outside,  everything  was 
momentarily  becoming  more  distinct  from  the  increasing  light 
on  the  snow.  The  horses'  ma.nes  and  the  men's  sheep-skin 
coats  were  covered  with  hoar-frost;  it  looked  as  if  the  entire 
squadron  were  dressed  in  white  and  mounted  on  white  horses. 


312 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


Bashka  and  Evka  took  their  seats  in  the  fur  lined  sleigh. 
The  dragoons  and  postilions  oi'  the  companies  shouted  good 
wishes  for  a  pleasant  journey  for  the  travellers. 

At  the  noise  a  great  flock  of  crows  and  ravens  which  had 
been  driven  to  the  vicinity  of  human  habitation  by  the  severe 
winter  flew  up  from  the  roofs  and  began  to  croak  as  they 
circled  in  the  rosy  dawn. 

The  little  knight  leaned  over  the  sleigh  and  hid  his  face 
in  the  hood  that  covered  his  wife's  face. 

That  moment  seemed  eternal.  Finally  he  tore  himself  away 
from  Basia,  and  exclaimed,  as  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross: 

"In  the  name  of  God." 

Azya  then  rose  in  his  stirrups  with  his  wild  face  shining 
with  exultation  and  the  light  of  dawn.  He  waved  his  staff 
till  his  burka  rose  like  the  wings  oi  a  bird  of  prey,  and  cried 
in  shrill  tones: 

"Forward!" 

The  hoofs  crunched  hi  the  snow  and  clouds  of  steam  issued 
from  the  horses'  nostrils.  The  first  rank  of  the  Lipkovs 
slowly  advanced;  and  then  came  the  second,  third,  and  fourth; 
and,  next,  the  sleigh;  then  the  ranks  of  a  whole  company 
began  to  move  across  the  sloping  square  to  the  gate. 

The  little  knight  blessed  them  with  the  Holy  Cross,  and, 
at  last,  when  the  sleigh  had  passed  through  the  gate,  he  raised 
his  hands  to  his  lips  and  shouted,  "Farewell,  Basia!*' 

But  Iris  only  answer  came  from  the  firing  of  the  muskets, 
and  the  loud  cawing  of  blackbirds. 


BOOK  III. 


CHAPTER  I. 

About  a  dozen  Cheremis  marched  some  miles  in  advance 
to  examine  the  road  and  inform  commanders  of  the  approach 
of  Pani  Volodiyovski  so  as  to  have  quarters  ready  for  her 
everywhere.  Then  came  the  main  body  of  the  Lipkovs  with 
Basia  and  Evka  in  one  sleigh  and  their  maids  in  the  other, 
and  a  smaller  body  brought  up  the  rear.  Snowdrifts  made 
the  road  heavy.  Pine  forests  which  retain  their  needles  even 
in  winter  do  not  allow  much  snow  to  fall  on  the  ground,  but 
that  trackless  forest  along  the  banks  of  the  Dniester,  which 
was  composed  principally  of  oaks  and  other  deciduous  trees, 
now  stripped  of  their  natural  covering,  was  heaped  half-way 
up  the  trunks  with  snow.  The  hollows  were  also  filled  -with 
snow;  in  some  places  it  had  been  heaped  into  waves  of  the  sea 
whose  curling  crests  looked  as  if  about  to  fall  and  break  on 
the  white  plain.  On  crossing  difficult  ravines  and  slopes  the 
Lipkovs  steadied  the  sleighs  with  ropes  and  only  on  the  high 
plains  where  the  wind  had  levelled  the  crust  of  the  snow  did 
they  drive  fast  in  the  track  of  the  caravan  which  had  started 
earlier  from  Khreptyov  with  Naviragh  and  the  two  learned 
Anardrats. 

It  was  hard  travelling,  though  not  so  hard  as  it  is  some- 
times in  those  trackless  wilds,  full  of  chasms,  rivers,  streams, 
and  ravines.  They  were  consequently  glad  that  before  night- 
fall they  would  be  able  to  reach  the  precipitoiis  valley  at  the 
bottom  of  which  Mohilov  was  situated  and  moreover  that 
tftere  was  a  prospect  of  fine  weather.  After  a  rosy  dawn  the 
sun  rose  and  the  plains,  ravines,  and  wilderness  were  sud- 
denly illumined  brightly;  sparks  seemed  to  cover  the  branches 
of  the  trees  and  the  snow  sparkled  till  its  dazzle  made  the  eyes 
ache.  Through  openings  on  high  places  views  could  be 
gained  as  through  windows  in  the  wilds  and  the  eye  could  see 
as  far  as  Moldavia  till  it  was  lost  on  the  white  and  blue 
horizon  flooded  with  light. 

The  air  was  dry  and  keen.  In  that  atmosphere  men  feel 
health  and  strength  as  well  as  animals;  in  the  ranks  the 

(3i5) 


31 6  PAN   MICHAEL. 

horsos  were  constantly  snorting  and  columns  of  steam  issued 
from  their  nostrils;  and  the  Lipkovs  were  singing  jovial  songs, 
although  the  frost  was  nipping  their  legs  so  that  they  kept 
drawing  them  up  under  the  skirts  of  their  coats. 

At  last  the  sun  reached  its  meridian  and  gave  a  little 
warmth  to  the  world.  It  became  too  hot  for  Basia  and  Evka 
among  the  furs  in  the  sleigh.  They  untied  their  head-cover- 
ings, threw  back  their  hoods,  exposed  their  rosy  faces  to  the 
light,  and  began  to  look  about  them, — Basia  at  her  surround- 
ings, and  Evka  seeking  Azya  who  was  not  near  the  sleigh  but 
riding  in  front  with  the  Cheremis  who  were  reconnoitering 
the  way  and  clearing  away  the  snow  when  it  was  needed. 
Evka's  face  clouded  at  this,  but  Basia  who  was  thoroughly 
posted  on  military  matters  said,  to  comfort  her: 

"They  are  all  like  that:  duty  is  duty.  My  little  Michael 
will  not  even  look  at  me  when  he  has  any  military  matters  to 
attend  to;  and  it  would  be  ill  if  it  were  not  so  because  if  you 
must  love  a  soldier  let  him  be  a  good  one." 

"But  will  he  be  with  us  at  the  baiting-place?"  asked  Evka. 

"Take  care  that  you  don't  get  too  much  of  him!  Didn't 
you  see  how  happy  he  was  when  we  started?  His  face 
seemed  to  be  flaming." 

"I  saw  that  he  was  very  glad." 

"But  what  will  he  be  when  he  obtains  your  father's  con- 
sent?" 

"Ah!  what  is  in  store  for  me?  God's  will  be  done!  But 
my  heart  dies  in  me  when  I  think  of  father.  If  he  should 
rage,  or  become  obstinate  and  refuse  his  consent,  my  life  will 
be  a  troubled  one  when  I  get  home." 

"Evka,  do  you  know  what  I  think?" 

"What?" 

"Azya  is  not  to  be  played  with.  Your  brother  might  op- 
pose with  force,  but  your  father  has  no  power.  I  think  that 
if  your  father  opposes  Azya  will  take  you  anyhow." 

"How?" 

"Why,  by  running  away  with  you.  They  say  he  is  not  to 
be  trifled  with.  .  .  Tukhay  Bey's  blood!  Elsewhere  banns, 
certificates  and  licenses  would  be  requivsite,  but  this  is  a  wild 
region  and  matters  are  carried  on  somewhat  after  the  Tartar 
fashion." 

Evka's  face  lighted  up. 

"That  is  what  I  fear.  Azya  is  capable  of  anything;  that  is 
what  I  fear!" 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


317 


But  Basia  turned  her  head  and  gave  her  a  swift  glance  and 
suddenly  burst  into  her  girlish  ringing  laugh. 

"You  fear  it  just  as  a  mouse  fears  bacon.  Oh,  I  know  you!" 

Kvka,  already  rosy  with  the  sharp  air  now  flushed  a  deeper 
red,  and  answered: 

"I  should  dread  my  father's  curse,  and  I  know  that  Azya  is 
capable  of  disregarding  everything." 

"Keep  up  your  courage,  you  will  have  your  brother  as  well 
as  me  to  help  you.  True  love  always  comes  by  its  own.  Pan 
Zagloba  said  that  to  me  before  Michael  even  thought  of  me." 

Having  once  begun  to  chatter  they  now  vied  with  each 
flther  in  talking,  one  about  Azya  and  the  other  about  Michael. 
AL  couple  of  hours  passed  in  this  way  till  the  caravan  halted 
for  the  first  bait  at  Yaryshov.  Of  this  little  town,  which  had 
always  been  miserable,  the  peasant  incursion  had  left  only 
one  inn,  which  had  been  restored  immediately  that  the  pass- 
ing of  the  military  gave  assurance  of  profit.  Here  Basia  and 
Evka  found  a  passing  Armenian  merchant,  a  native  of  Mo- 
hilov  who  was  taking  saffian  to  Kamenets. 

Azya  wanted  to  throw  him  out  into  the  yard  with  the  Wal- 
lachians  and  Tartars  who  accompanied  him,  but  the  ladies 
allowed  him  to  stay  and  his  guard  only  had  to  go.  When  the 
merchant  discovered  that  the  traveller  was  Pani  Volodiyovski 
he  began  to  bow  his  head  to  the  earth  and  praise  her  husband 
to  the  skies,  and  she  listened  to  him  with  great  pleasure. 

Presently  he  went  to  his  bales  and  on  his  return  offered  her 
a  package  of  choice  sweetmeats  and  a  little  box  filled  with 
sweet-scented  Turkish  herbs,  good  for  various  complaints. 

"I  bring  this  in  gratitude,"  he  said.  "Hitherto  we  have 
not  dared  to  show  our  faces  outside  Mohilov  because  of  Azba 
Bey's  terrible  raids  and  because  so  many  robbers  infested  the 
ravines  on  this  side  and  the  fields  on  the  other  side;  but  now 
the  roads  are  safe  again  and  so  is  trade.  Now  we  can  again 
travel.  May  God  multiply  the  days  of  the  commander  at 
Khreptyov  and  make  every  day  long  enough  for  a  journey 
from  Mohilov  to  Kamenets  and  may  every  hour  be  length- 
ened to  seem  like  a  day!  Our  commander,  the  Field-Secretary, 
prefers  to  dwell  in  Warsaw;  but  the  commander  kept  watch 
and  swept  out  the  robbers  so  that  now  they  would  rather  face 
death  than  the  Dniester. 

"Then  isn't  Pan  Jeruski  in  Mohilov?"  asked  Basia. 

"He  merely  brought  the  soldiers  and  I  doubt  if  he  stayed 
three  days.  Allow  me,  your  ladyship,  there  are  raisins  in 


^i8  PAN    MICHAEL. 

this  package  and  in  this  corner  of  it  snc-li  fruit,  as  is  not  to  IK; 
found  in  Turkey, — it  comes  from  far  Asia  and  grows  there  on 
palms.  .  .  The  Secretary  is  not  in  the  town  and  now  there  is 
no  cavalry  at  all,  for  yesterday  they  went  suddenly  in  the  di- 
rection of  Bratslav.  .  .  But  here  are  dates;  may  fhey  do  you? 
ladyship  good!  .  .  .  Only  Pan  Gorzenski  is  left  with  the  in- 
fantry and  the  cavalry  are  all  gone.  .  .  " 

''I  am  surprised  to  hear  that  all  the  cavalry  are  gone!"  said 
Basia  with  an  inquiring  glance  at  Azya. 

"They  went  to  keep  the  horses  in  condition,"  the  son  of 
Tukhay  Bey  answered  calmly. 

"In  the  town  it  is  reported  that  Dorosh  unexpectedly  ad- 
vanced," said  the  merchant. 

Azya  laughed. 

"But  how  will  he  feed  his  horses, — with  snow?"  he  asked 
Basia. 

"Pan  Gorzenski  can  best  tell  your  ladyship  about  it,"  added 
the  merchant. 

"I  don't  believe  there's  anything  in  it,"  said  Basia.  after  a 
moment's  thought,  "for  in  that  case  my  husband  would  be 
the  first  to  know." 

"Doubtless  the  news  would  reach  Khreptyov  first,"  said 
Azya,  "let  not  your  ladyship  be  afraid." 

Basia  lifted  her  bright  face  to  the  Tartar  and  her  nostrils 
dilated. 

"I,  afraid!  That's  an  excellent  idea  of  yours!  Do  you  hear 
that  Evka?  I,  afraid!" 

Evka  could  not  reply,  for  being  very  fond  of  dainties  and 
having  an  inordinate  love  of  sweets,  her  mouth  was  full  of 
dates,  but  that  did  not  prevent  her  from  gazing  expressively 
at  Azya  and  when  she  had  swallowed  the  fruit  she  said : 

"Even  I  am  not  afraid,  with  such  an  officer!" 

Then  she  gazed  meaningly  into  the  eyes  of  the  young  Tuk- 
hay Bey;  but  from  the  moment  when  she  had  become  a 
stumbling-block  in  his  path  he  had  felt  for  her  nothing  but 
hidden  aversion  and  rage.  He  therefore  stood  motionless 
without  raising  his  eyes: 

"In  Rashkov  it  will  appear  whether  I  am  worthy  of  confi- 
dence or  no." 

And  there  was  something  in  his  tones  that  was  almost  ter- 
rible but,  as  the  two  girls  were  accustomed  to  the  young  Li- 
pek's  words  and  ways  being  different  to  those  of  all  other  men, 
it  did  not  attract  their  atteiatkm,  Azva  then  insisted  that 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

they  should  proceed    immediately,    because    the    mountains 
around  Mohilov  were  difficult  to  cross  and  the  passage  ought 
to  be  made  during  daylight. 
They  started  at  once. 

They  travelled  quickly  till  they  reached  the  mountains. 
Basia  wanted  to  mount  her  horse,  but  at  the  persuasion  of  the 
eon  of  Tukhay  Bey  she  remained  in  the  sleigh  with  Evka 
while  it  was  steadied  with  ropes  and  carefully  lowered  from 
the  heights.  Azya  walked  beside  the  sleigh  the  whole  time 
but  scarcely  spoke  a  word  either  to  Basia  or  Evka,  but  oc- 
cupied himself  with  their  safety  and  with  giving  orders. 
However  the  sun  set  before  they  had  succeeded  in  crossing 
the  mountains,  but  the  advanced  party  of  Cheremis  made 
fires  of  dry  branches.  Then  they  descended  among  the  glow- 
ing fires  and  the  wild  figures  standing  about  them.  Be- 
yond these  figures  were  visible  in  the  gloom  of  the  evening 
and  the  half-light  produced  by  the  flames,  the  frowning  rocks 
in  vague,  terrible  outlines.  All  this  was  new  and  strange  and 
it  all  seemed  like  some  perilous  and  mysterious  expedition 
and  therefore  Basia's  spirits  were  in  the  seventh  heaven  and 
her  heart  was  full  of  gratitude  to  her  husband  for  permitting 
her  to  take  this  journey  to  unknown  parts,  and  to  Azya  for 
managing  the  journey  with  such  ability.  Now  for  the  first 
time  Basia  understood  the  meaning  of  those  military  marches 
and  hardships  of  which  she  had  so  often  heard  the  soldiers 
speak,  and  what  steep  and  winding  roads  really  were.  She 
was  seized  with  a  mad  joyousness.  She  would  certainly  have 
mounted  her  pony  had  it  not  been  that  by  sitting  beside  Evka 
she  could  talk  to  and  frighten  her.  So  while  going  along  a 
narrow,  sharp  turn  the  advanced  guard  went  out  of  sight  and 
began  to  shout  with  wild  voices  whose  muffled  echoes  re- 
sounded among  the  beetling  crags,  Basia  turned  to  Evka  and 
cried  as  she  grasped  her  hands: 

"Oh!     Robbers  from  the  plains  or  the  horde!" 
But  Evka  was  not  at  all  alarmed  when  she  remembered 
Azya,  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey. 

"The  robbers  and  the  horde  honor  and  fear  him/'  she 
answered. 

And  then  she  said  as  she  leaned  to  Basia's  ear: 
"Even  to  Byalogrod,  even  to  the  Crimea,  if  only  with  him!'' 
The  moon  had  risen  high  in  the  sky  when  they  issued  from 
the  mountains.     Then  far  below  them  as  if  at  the  foot  of  a 
precipice  they  saw  a  clump  of  lights. 


MICHAL'L. 

"Mohilov  is  at  our  feet!"  said  a  voice  behind  Basia  and 
Evka. 

They  looked  around;  it  was  Azya  standing  behind  the 
sleigh. 

But  does  the  town  lie  like  that  at  the  bottom  of  the  valley?" 
Basia  asked. 

"It  does.  The  mountains  entirely  protect  it  from  winter 
winds/'  Azya  answered,  putting  his  head  between  theirs. 

"Observe,  your  ladyship,  that  the  climate  is  quite  different 
here;  it  is  more  still  and  warm.  Spring  arrives  here  ten  days 
earlier  than  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains  and  the  woods 
put  out  their  leaves  sooner.  That  grey  on  the  slope  is  a  vine- 
yard; but  the  ground  is  still  covered  with  snow/' 

Snow  was  lying  everywhere  but  the  air  was  really  warmer 
and  calmer.  As  they  slowly  descended  to  the  valley  lights 
appeared  one  by  one  and  every  moment  became  more  nu- 
merous. 

"A  respectable  place,  and  quite  large!"  exclaimed  Evka. 

"That's  on  account  of  its  not  having  been  burned  at  the 
peasant  incursion.  The  Cossack  troops  had  their  winter 
quarters  here,  and  Lakhs  have  hardly  ever  visited  the  place." 

"Who  dwell  here?" 

"Tartars,  who  have  their  own  wooden  minaret;  for  in  the 
Commonwealth  everyone  is  at  liberty  to  profess  his  own  faith. 
Wallachians  dwell  here,  and  Armenians,  and  Greeks,  also." 

"I  saw  some  Greeks  once  at  Kamenets,"  rejoined  Basia, 
"for  though  they  live  so  far  away  they  go  everywhere  for 
trade. 

"This  town  is  different  from  all  others,"  said  Azya,  "many 
people  of  various  nations  come  here  to  traffic.  That  settle- 
ment over  there  to  one  side  is  called  Serby." 

"We  are  already  entering  it,"  said  Basia. 

In  fact  they  had  arrived.  They  immediately  noticed  a 
strange  sour  odor  of  skins.  This  was  the  odor  of  saffian  in 
the  manufacture  of  which  all  the  inhabitants  were  more  or 
less  engaged,  but  the  Armenians  in  particular.  As  Azya  had 
said  it  was  quite  different  from  ordinary  places.  The  houses 
were  built  in  the  Asiatic  style  and  had  windows  covered  with 
thick  wooden  lattice;  many  of  the  houses  had  no  windows  to 
the  street  and  the  glow  of  fires  was  visible  only  in  the  yards. 
The  streets  were  unpaved  though  there  was  plenty  of  stone  in 
the  neighborhood.  Here  and  there  were  buildings  of  strange 
form  with  open  walls  of  lattice-work;  these  were  drying- 


PA2V    MICHAEL.  32I 

houses  in  which  fresh  grapes  were  transformed  into  raisins. 
The  odor  of  saffian  pervaded  the  entire  town. 

Pan  Gorzenski  who  commanded  the  infantry,  was  notified 
by  the  Cheremis  of  the  approach  of  the  wife  of  the  com- 
mander of  Khreptyov  and  rode  out  on  horseback  to  meet  her. 
He  was  not  young  and  he  stammered;  he  also  lisped  because 
his  cheeks  had  been  pierced  by  a  bullet  from  a  janissary  gun; 
and  so  when  he  began  to  speak  (stammering  each  instant),  of 
the  star  "that  had  risen  in  the  skies  of  Mohilov,"  Basia 
nearly  burst  out  laughing.  But  he  received  her  as  hospitably 
as  he  knew  how.  In  the  citadel  a  supper  was  awaiting  her, 
and  an  exceedingly  comfortable  bed  of  fresh  and  clean  down, 
which  he  had  requisitioned  from  the  richest  Armenians. 
Although  Pan  Gorzenski  stammered,,  yet  at  supper  in  the 
evening,  he  told  of  strange  matters  that  were  worth  attention. 

According  to  him  a  disturbing  breeze  suddenly  and  un- 
expectedly had  begun  to  blow  from  the  steppes. 

Intelligence  arrived  that  a  strong  chambul.of  the  Crimean 
horde  in  camp  with  Ddrosh  had  suddenly  advanced  towards 
Haysyn  and  the  district  above  and  the  chambul  was  ac- 
companied by  several  thousand  Cossacks.  Moreover  many 
other  disturbing  rumors  had  come  from  various  sources.  To 
these,  however,  Pan- Gorzenski  did  not  give  much  credence. 

"For  it  is  winter,"  he  said,  "and  since  the  Lord  created  this 
round  world  the  Tartars  only  move  in  the  Spring;  then  they 
form  no  camp  and  carry  no  baggage,  nor  any  food  for  their 
horses.  We  all  know  that  war  with  the  power  of  the  Turk  is 
held  in  check  by  the  frost  alone,  and  that  visitors  will  appear 
with  the  first  grass;  but  I  shall  never  believe  that  there  is 
anything  just  now." 

Basia  waited  long  and  patiently  for  Pan  Gorzenski  to 
finish.  In  the  meantime  he  stammered  on  and  his  lips 
worked  as  if  he  were  eating. 

"What  is  your  own  opinion  of  the  movement  of  the  horde 
towards  Haysyn?"  she  asked  aMast. 

"I  think  that  their  horses  have  scraped  all  the  grass  out 
from  under  the  snow  and  that  they  are  just  moving  camp. 
Moreover  it  may  be  that  the  horde  living  by  Dorosh's  follow- 
ers are  at  odds  with  them;  that  has  always  happened. 
Although  they  are  allies  and  are  fighting  side  by  side,  just  as 
soon  as  they  have  adjoining  encampments  they  immediately 
fall  out  with  one  another  in  the  pastures  and  bazaars." 

"That  is  perfectly  true,"  said  Azya. 


"And  there  is  another  tiling,"  proc-mlrd  Pan  Gorzeiiski, 
"the  reports  did  not  come  dim-tly  I'mm  our  own  men  but 
were  brought  by  peasants;  the  Tartars  here  were  the  first  to 
begin  to  talk  about  it.  Three  days  ago  Pan  Yakubovich 
brought  in  from  the  steppes  the  first  tongues  that  confirmed 
the  rumors  and  all  the  cavalry  immediately  marched  out." 

"Then  you  have  now  only  infantry  with  you?''  Azya  asked. 

"God  have  pity  upon  us!  forty  men!  There  is  scarcely 
anyone  left  to  defend  the  citadel  and  if  the  Tartars  who  dwell 
here  in  Mohilov  were  to  rise  I  don't  know  how  I  should  de- 
fend myself." 

"But  why  don't  they  rise  against  you?"  asked  Basia. 

"They  don't  because  they  can't.  Many  of  them  have  their 
permanent  abode  in  the  Commonwealth  with  their  wives  and 
children  and  are  on  our  side.  As  for  the  rest  they  are  here 
for  trade  and  not  war;  they  are  quiet  people." 

"I  will  leave  your  lordship  fifty  of  my  Lipkov  horse,"  said 
Azya. 

"God  reward  you!  You  will  be  doing  me  a  great  service 
for  then  I  shall  have  some  cavalry  scouts.  But  can  you  leave 
them?" 

"I  can.  In  Rashkov  we  shall  have  the  forces  of  those 
leaders  who  formerly  went  over  to  the  Sultan  and  now  want 
to  return  to  the  service  of  the  Commonwealth,  Krychinski 
will  certainly  come  with  three  hundred  horse  and  perhaps 
Adurovich  also  will  come;  others  will  arrive  later.  I  am  to 
assume  the  supreme  command  by  the  Hetman's  orders,  and 
before  the  Spring  there  will  be  a  whole  division.*' 

Pan  Gorzenski  bowed  before  Azya.  He  had  known  him 
for  a  considerable  time  but  had  somewhat  looked  down  upon 
him  as  a  man  of  dubious  origin.  But  knowing  now  that  he 
was  tbe  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  as  this  news  had  been  brought  by 
the  first  caravan  in  which  Naviragh  was  travelling,  Gorzenski 
honored  in  the  young  Lipkov  Tartar,  the  blood  of  a  great 
though  hostile  warrior,  and  moreover  he  also  paid  him  honor 
as  an  officer  who  was  entrusted  with  such  important  functions 
by  the  Hetman. 

Azya.  departed  to  issue  orders  and  calling  the  setnik,  Da- 
vid, he  said: 

"David,  son  of  Skander,  thou  wilt  remain  in  Mohilov  with 
fifty  horse.  Thou  wilt  see  with  thine  eyes  and  hear  with 
thine  ears  what  is  happen  ins:  around  thee.  If  the  Little  Fal- 
con at  Khreptyov  sends  letters  to  me  thou  wilt  stop  his  raei- 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


323 


senger,  take  the  letters  from  him,  and  send  them  by  thine 
own  man.  Thou  wilt  stay  here  until  I  send  an  order  to  re- 
turn. If  my  messenger  says,  'It  is  night/  thou  wilt  go  out  in 
peace;  but  if  he  says,  'Day  is  near/  thou  wilt  burn  the  place, 
pass  over  to  the  Moldavian  side  and  go  whither  I  command 
thee."  .  .  . 

"Master,  thou  hast  spoken,"  David  replied;  "I  will  see  with 
my  eyes  and  hear  with  my  ears,  I  will  stop  messengers  from 
the  Little  Falcon  and  when  I  have  taken  their  letters  I  will 
send  them  to  thee  by  our  own  man.  I  will  stay  here  till 
orders  arrive;  and  if  thy  messenger  says  to  me  'It  is  night/  I 
will  go  out  in  peace;  if  he  says  'Day  is  near/  I  will  burn  the 
place  and  pass  over  to  the  Moldavian  side  and  go  whither  the 
order  directs." 

Early  next  morning  the  caravan  diminished  by  fifty  horse 
continued  the  journey.  Pan  Gorzenski  escorted  Basia  be- 
yond the  valley  of  Mohilov.  Thence,  after  stammering  forth 
a  farewell  oration,  he  returned  to  Mohilov,  and  they  hastened 
on  towards  Yampol.  Azya  was  in  unusually  high  spirits  and 
Basia  was  surprised  at  the  way  in  which  he  urged  on  his 
men. 

"Why  are  you  so  pressing?"  she  asked. 

"Everyone  hastens  to  happiness,  and  mine  will  commence 
at  Rashkov." 

Eva  taking  this  speech  to  herself,  plucked  up  heart  and 
answered: 

"But  my  father?" 

"Pan  Novovyeyski  will  not  oppose  me  in  anything,"  replied 
the  Tartar. 

And  sinister  lightning  flashed  across  his  face. 

They  found  hardly  any  troops  at  Yampol.  There  had 
never  been  any  infantry  there  and  almost  all  the  cavalry  had 
gone;  barely  a  dozen  were  left  in  the  little  fort,  or  rather  in 
its  ruins.  .  .  .  lodgings  were  prepared  for  Basia  but  she 
slept  badly  for  she  had  begun  to  get  uneasy  about  these  ru- 
mors. She  particularly  dwelt  on  the  thought  of  how  dis- 
turbed the  little  knight  would  be  if  it  should  prove  that  one 
of  Doroshenko's  chambuls  had  really  advanced;  but  she  forti- 
fied herself  with  the  thought  that  it  might  not  be  true.  She 
wondered  whether  it  would  not  be  better  to  return  taking  a 
body  of  Azya's  soldiers  for  protection  but  various  objections 
immediately  orcurrecl.  In  the  first  place  Azya  could  only 
spare  a  small  guard  as  ho  luul  to  increase  the  garrison  of  Rash- 


324  MICHAEL. 

kov  and  in  case  of  real  peril  that  guard  might  not  be  suffici- 
ent; and  in  the  second  they  had  already  passed  two-thirds  of 
the  journey;  in  Rashkov  there  was  an  officer  she  knew,  and 
a  strong  garrison  which,  increased  by  the  detachment  of  the 
son  of  Tukhay  Bey's  son  and  by  the  following  of  the  revolted 
leaders  would  make  quite  a  formidable  force.  Taking  every- 
thing into  consideration  Basia  concluded  to  go  on. 

But  she  could  not  sleep.  For  the  first  time  during  the 
journey  she  was  seized  with  alarm  as  if  some  unknown  danger 
was  hanging  above  her  head.  Perhaps  this  fear  was  partly 
caused  by  lodging  in  Yampol  for  it  was  a  terrible  and  sanguin- 
ary spot;  Basia  knew  that  from  the  tales  of  her  husband  and 
Pan  Zagloba,  In  Khmyelnitski's  time  the  main  body  of  the 
Podolian  cut-throats  under  Burlay  had  been  stationed  here; 
and  captives  had  been  brought  and  sold  into  the  markets  of 
the  East,  or  had  suffered  a  cruel  death;  and  here  finally,  in 
the  Spring  of  1651  during  a  crowded  fair,  Pan  Stanislav 
Lantskoronski,  Yoevoda  of  Bratslav,  had  burst  in  and  done 
frightful  slaughter  the  memory  of  which  was  still  fresh  all 
along  the  Dniester. 

Therefore  bloody  memories  hung  everywhere  over  the  en- 
tire place  and  here  and  there  were  blackened  ruins  and  from 
the  walls  of  the  half-ruined  little  fort  the  pallid  faces  of 
slaughtered  Poles  and  Cossacks  seemed  to  gaze. 

Basia  was  bold  but  she  was  afraid  of  ghosts;  it  was  said  that 
in  Yampol  itself,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Shumilovka  and  in  the 
adjacent  rapids  of  the  Dniester  mighty  groans  and  wails  were 
heard  at  midnight  and  that  the  water  became  red  in  the  moon- 
light as  if  tinged  with  blood.  This  thought  filled  Basia's 
soul  with  painful  dread.  In  spite  of  herself  in  the  quiet  night 
she  listened  for  groans  and  wailing  amid  the  noises  of  the 
rapids.  She  only  heard  the  prolonged  call  "Czuwa-ay"  of  the 
sentinels.  Then  she  thought  of  the  quiet  room  at  Khreptyov, 
her  husband,  Pan  Zagloba,  the  friendly  faces  of  Pan  Nyena- 
shinyets,  Mushalski,  Motovidlo,  Snitko,and  the  others  and  for 
the  first  time  she  felt  that  she  was  seized  with  such  home- 
sickness for  Khreptyov  that  she  felt  inclined  to  weep. 

She  did  not  fall  asleep  till  near  morning  and  then  she  had 
strange  dreams.  Burlay,  the  cut-throats,  the  Tartars,  and 
sanguinary  scenes  of  massacre  passed  through  her  head  in 
procession  and  Azya's  face  was  always  present  in  these  scenes, 
—not  the  Azya  she  knew,  but  a  Cossack,  a  wild  Tartar,  or 
Tukhay  Bey  himself  in  turn. 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


325 


She  rose  early,  relieved  that  the  night  and  the  disagreeable 
visions  were  at  an  end.  She  had  determined  to  make  the  rest 
of  the  journey  on  horseback,  in  the  first  place  to  enjoy  the 
exercise  and  in  the  second  to  afford  an  opportunity  for  Azya 
and  Evka  to  converse  freely  as  the  proximity  of  Rashkov  of 
course  made  it  necessary  for  them  to  arrange  some  plan  of 
informing  old  Pan  Novovyeyski  of  the  state  of  affairs  and  re- 
ceiving his  consent.  Azya  held  her  stirrup  with  his  own 
hand  but  he  did  not  take  his  seat  in  the  sleigh  with  Evka,  but 
immediately  went  to  the  head  of  his  followers  and  kept  near 
Basia. 

She  immediately  noticed  that  again  the  cavalry's  numbers 
were  reduced  from  what  they  had  been  when  they  arrived  at 
Yampol,  so  she  turned  to  the  young  Tartar  and  said: 

"I  see  that  you  have  left  some  men  behind  at  Yampol?" 

"Fifty  horse,  just  as  at  Mohilov,"  Azya  replied. 

"What  was  that  for?" 

He  laughed  strangely;  his  lips  parted  like  those  of  a  vicious 
dog  when  he  shows  his  teeth,  and  he  paused  before  answer- 
ing: 

"I  wanted  to  have  those  places  in  my  power  and  to  make 
the  homeward  road  for  your  ladyship  safe." 

"There  will  be  enough  troops  there  when  they  come  back 
from  the  steppes." 

"They  will  not  return  so  soon." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"They  cannot,  because  they  must  first  learn  with  certainty 
what  Dorosh  is  about,  and  that  will  take  three  or  four  weeks." 

"In  that  case  you  did  well  to  leave  the  men." 

They  rode  on  for  a  time  in  silence.  Azya  from  time  to 
time  glanced  at  Basia.'s  rosy  face  half  hidden  by  the  raised 
collar  of  her  mantle  and  cap  and  after  each  glance  he  closed 
his  eyes  as  though  trying  to  fix  the  charming  picture  more 
firmly  in  his  mind. 

"You  ought  to  go  and  have  a  talk  with  Evka,"  she  con- 
tinued, "you  talk  to  her  entirely  too  little  and  she  doesn't 
know  what  to  think.  You  will  soon  be  in  Pan  Novovyeyski's 
presence;  .  .  Even  I  am  fearful.  .  .  You  and  she  ought  to 
consult  and  arrange  how  to  begin." 

"I  should  first  like  to  have  a  talk  with  your  ladyship,"  said 
Azya  in  strange  tones. 

"Thou  why  not  immediately?" 

"T  am  awaiting  a  messenger  from  IJaslikov.  .  .  I  expected 
to  find  him  at  Yampol.  I  look  for  him  every  moment." 


326 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


"But  what  has  a  messenger  to  do  with  our  conversation  ?'" 

"I  think  he  is  coming  now!"  said  the  young  Tartar  avoid- 
ing a  direct  reply. 

And  he  galloped  forward  hut  presently  returned  and  suid: 

"No!  it  is  not  he." 

There  was  something  so  restless  in  his  actions,  and  speech 
and  voice  and  whole  appearance  that  his  restlessness  com- 
municated itself  to  Basia  and  still  she  had  not  yet  the  le*st 
suspicion  of  anything  wrong.  Azya's  agitation  could  be 
satisfactorily  accounted  for  by  the  proximity  of  Rashkov  and 
Evka's  terrible  father;  and  yet  Basia  had  a  feeling  of  oppres- 
sion as  if  her  own  lot  were  at  stake. 

She  approached  the  sleigh  and  for  some  hours  rode  by  its 
side  near  Evka  talking  to  her  about  Rashkov  and  the  old  and 
young  Novovyeyski  and  Zosia  Boski,  and  lastly  of  the  country 
they  were  passing  through  which  was  becoming  wilder  and 
more  terrible.  Indeed  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Khrept- 
yov  it  was  a  wilderness  but  at  least  there  an  occasional  column 
of  smoke  rose  on  the  horizon  some  huts  or  some  human  dwell- 
ing. Here  there  was  no  indication  of  man  and  if  Basia  had 
not  known  that  she  going  to  Rashkov  where  people  dwelt  and 
there  was  a  Polish  garrison  the  might  have  imagined  that  she 
was  being  taken  away  into  some  unknown  desert  or  into 
strange  lands  at  the  edge  of  the  world. 

Gazing  about  her  at  the  country  she  involuntarily  checked 
her  horse  and  was  soon  left  in  the  rear  of  the  sleighs  and 
soldiers.  Presently  Azya  joined  her  and  as  he  was  well 
acquainted  with  the  district  he  began  to  point  out  the  various 
places  by  name. 

This  did  not  last  long  however  as  the  earth  began  to  be 
obscured  as  with  smoke;  evidently  the  winter  Avas  not  so 
severe  in  this  southern  district  as  in  the  woody  Khreptyov. 
It  is  true  that  some  snow  was  lying  in  the  hollows, on  the  cliffs 
and  the  ledges  of  the  rocks,  as  well  as  on  the  northern  sides 
of  the  hills;  but  for  the  most  part  the  earth  was  not  covered 
and  looked  dark  with  woods  or  glistened  with  the  long 
withered  grass.  From  this  grass  rose  a  light  grey  fog  which, 
spreading  along  the  ground,  filled  the  valleys  and  extended 
across  the  plains;  next  it  rose  higher  and  higher  till  at  length 
it  blotted  out  the  sunshine  and  turned  a  bright  day  into  a  dark 
and  foggy  one. 

"It  will  rain  to-morrow,"  said  Azya. 

"If  not  to-day.     How  far  is  it  to' Rashkov?"/ 


PAN    MICHAEL.  327 

The  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  looked  at  the  nearest  landmark 
that  was  scarcely  visible  through  the  fog  and  said: 

'"'From  that  point  it  is  nearer  to  Rashkov  than  back  to 
Yampol." 

And  he  drew  a  long  breath  as  if  his  breast  was  just  relieved 
of  a  great  weight. 

At  that  moment  the  tramp  of  a  horse  was  heard  in  front  of 
them  and  a  rider  became  indistinctly  visible  through  the  fog. 

"Halim!  I  recognize  him/'  exclaimed  Azya. 

In  fact  it  was  Halim  who  when  he  had  galloped  up  to 
Azya  and  Basia,  sprang  from  his  horse  and  began  to  bow  his 
head  at  the  stirrup  of  the  young  Tartar: 

"From  Rashkov?"  inquired  Azya. 

"From  Rashkov,  my  lord!" 

"What  is  the  news?" 

The  old  man  raised  his  ugly  face,  emaciated  with  ceaseless 
toils  towards  Basia  as  though  asking  if  he  was  to  speak  before 
her  but  Tukhay  Bey's  son  at  once  cried: 

"Speak  out!    Have  the  troops  left?" 

"Yes!  Only  a  handful  are  left." 

"Who  led  them?" 

"Pan  Novovyeyski." 

"Have  the  Pyotroviches  gone  to  the  Crimea?" 

"Long  since.  Two  women  alone  remained  with  old  Pan 
Novovyeyski." 

"Where  is  Krychinski?" 

"Waiting  on  the  other  side  of  the  river." 

"Who  is  with  him?" 

"Adurovich  with  his  company;  both  bow  their  heads  at  thy 
stirrup,  0  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  and  give  themselves  into  thy 
hand, — they  and  all  those  who  have  not  yet  arrived." 

"Good!"  cried  Azya  with  flashing  eyes.  Fly  at  once  to 
Krychinski  and  order  him  to  occupy  Rashkov." 

Halim  sprang  into  the  saddle  in  an  instant  and  vanished 
like  a  phantom  in  the  fog.  .  .  Azya's  face  assumed  a  terrible 
ominous  expression.  The  decisive  moment  had  arrived, — the 
moment  awaited,  the  moment  of  his  greatest  happiness;  but 
his  heart  was  beating  fast  and  his  breath  came  short.  .  .  For 
some  time  he  rode  beside  Basia  in  silence  and  not  till  he  felt 
that  his  voice  would  not  fail  him  did  he  gaze  at  her  with  in- 
scrutable but  flashing  eyes  and  say: 

"Now  I  will  speak  to  your  ladyship  frankly." 

"I  am  listening,"  answered  Basia  looking  at  him  search- 
ingly  as  if  trying  to  read  his  altered  countenance. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Azya  urged  his  horse  close  to  Basia's  pony  till  their  stir- 
rups almost  touched.  He  rode  on  a  few  paces  in  silence 
while  he  made  a  final  effort  to  control  himself,  and  wondered 
why  it  was  such  an  effort  to  gain  calmness  since  Basia  was 
in  his  hands  and  no  human  power  could  deprive  him  of  her. 
But  he  did  not  know  that  contrary  to  all  likelihood,  and 
every  evidence,  a  faint  spark  of  hope  was  glimmering  in  his 
soul  that  the  woman  he  desired  might  reciprocate  his  own 
feelings.  If  this  hope  was  faint  the  desire  was  at  the  same 
time  so  strong  that  he  trembled  with  it  as  with  a  fever.  The 
woman  would  not  at  once  open  her  arms,  nor  cast  herself  into 
his  arms,  not  utter  those  words  over  which  he  had  dreamed 
for  whole  nights:  "Azya,  I  am  thine,"  nor  would  she  hang 
with  her  lips  on  his, — that  he  knew.  .  .  .  But  how  would 
she  receive  his  words?  Would  she  lose  all  feeling  like  a  dove 
in  the  talons  of  a  bird  of  prey  and  let  him  snatch  her  as  the 
hapless  dove  yields  itself  up  to  the  hawk?  Would  she  beg 
for  mercy  with  tears,  or  would  the  wilderness  resound  with 
her  cries  of  terror?  Would  all  this  be  something  more  or  Jess 
than  the  reality?  Such  were  the  questions  that  were  whirling 
in  the  brain  of  the  youig  Tartar.  But  in  any  case  the  moment 
had  arrived  to  cast  away  all- pretence  and  deceit  and  to  show 
truthful  and  terrible  looks.  .  .  This  was  the  cause  of  his 
restlessness  and  fearfulness.  This;  yet  a  moment,  and  some 
decided  step  should  be  taken. 

At  last  that  fear  in  the  soul  of  the  Tartar  became  what 
fear  most  often  becomes  in  a  wild  beast, — rage;  and  with  that 
rage  he  began  to  lash  himself.  "Whatever  is  the  result,"  he 
thought,  "she  is  mine,  she  is  mine  entirely,  she  will  be  mine 
this  very  day,  and  then  she  will  not  return  to  her  husband, 
but  will  follow  me."  .  .  . 

At  this  he  was  seized  by  a  wild  delight,  and  suddenly,  in 
tones  that  sounded  strange  even  to  himself,  he  said: 

"Your  ladyship  has  never  known  me  till  now!" 

"Your  voice  has  so  altered  in  this  fog,"  Basia  replied  in 

(328) 


7M.V    MIC  HA  EL. 


329 


•some  alarm,  "indeed  it  seems  to  me  as  if  some  one  else  were 
f-peaking." 

"There  arc  no  troops  in  Mohilov,  nor  in  Yampol,  nor  in 
JJashkov.  I  alone  am  lord  here.  .  .  Krychinski,  Aduro- 
vich,  and  the  rest  are  my  slaves;  for  I  am  a  prince,  I  am  the 
son  of  a  ruler.  I  am  their  vizir,  I  am  their  greatest  Murza; 
I  am  their  chief  as  was  Tukhay  Bey;  I  am  their  Khan;  I 
alone  am  in  authority,  everything  here  is  in  my  power."  .  . 

"Why  do  you  say  this  to  me?" 

''Hitherto  your  ladyship  has  not  known  me.  Rashkov  is 
not  far  oil'.  1  wanted  to  become  the  Hetman  of  the  Tartars 
and  serve  the  Commonwealth;  but  Sobieski  would  not  allow  it. 
I  am  not  going  to  be  a  Lipkov  Tartar  any  longer;  I  am  not 
going  to  serve  under  the  command  of  any  man;  I  myself  am 
going  to  lead  great  chambuls  against  Dorosh,  or  against  the 
Commonwealth  as  your  ladyship  wishes,  as  your  ladyship 
orders." 

"How,  as  I  order?   Azya,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"This,  that  all  here  are  my  slaves,  and  I  am  thine.  What  is 
the  Hetman  to  me?  I  care  not  whether  he  has  given  permis- 
sion or  not.  Your  ladyship,  speak  the  word  and  I  will  lay 
Akkerman  at  your  ladyship's  feet;  and  the  Dobrudja  and  the 
hordes  that  have  villages  there  and  those  that  wander  in  the 
wilderness  and  all  those  in  every  winter  quarters  shall  be  thy 
slaves,  as  I  am  thy  slave.  .  .  Command  .  .  .  and  I  will 
not  obey  the  Khan  of  the  Crimea,  I  will  not  obey  the  Sultan; 
1  will  draw  the  sword  against  them  and  help  the  Common- 
wealth. I  will  gather  new  hordes  in  these  regions  and  be 
Khan  over  them  as  thou  wilt  be  over  me;  to  thee  alone  will  I 
how  down  and  sue  for  thy  favor  and  love." 

Then  he  bent  in  his  saddle  and,  seizing  the  woman,  who 
was  half  stunned  and  terrified  by  his  words,  around  the  waist, 
continued  to  speak  in  hoarse  rapid  accents: 

''Hast  thou  not  seen  that  I  love  thee  alone?  .  .  .  Ah!  I 
have  had  my  share  of  suffering!  I  will  take  thee  now!  .  .  . 
Thou  art  mine  and  mine  thou  shalt  be!  Nobody  will  tear 
thee  from  my  grasp  here, — thou  art  mine!  mine!  mine!" 

''Jesu  Maria!"  cried  Basia.  / 

But  he  squeezed  her  in  his  arms  as  if  trying  to  stifle  her.  .  . 
His  breath  came  in  short  gasps  and  his  eyes  grew  dim;  at  last 
lie  dragged  her  out  of  the  stirrups  and  off  her  saddle,  set  her 
before  him,  pressed  her  to  his  breast,  and  his  bluish  lips, 
gaping  like  the  mouth  of  a  tish,  sought  her  own. 


PAN    MICHAEL. 

She  did  not  utter  a  cry,  but  began  to  resist  with  almost 
superhuman  power  and  a  silent  struggle  commenced  but  for 
their  loud  panting.  His  violent  actions  and  the  closeness  of 
his  face  brought  back  her  presence  of  mind.  In  an  instant 
Basia  gained  that  clear  vision  that  comes  to  drowning  men; 
everything  stood  out  with  the  greatest  vividness.  Thus  she 
.first  felt  that  the  earth  was  being  snatched  away  from  under 
her  feet  and  leaving  an  abyss  into  which  he  was  dragging  her; 
she  saw  his  passion,,  his  treason,  her  own  horrible  fate,  her 
weakness  and  dire  extremity;  she  felt  terrified  and  was  con- 
scious of  a  terrible  pain  and  grief,  and  at  the  same  time  she 
flamed  up  with  intense  exasperation,  frenzy,  and  revenge. 
Such  was  the  valiant  spirit  of  this  daughter  of  a  knight,  this 
chosen  wife  of  the  brevet-knight  of  the  Commonwealth,  that 
in  that  terrible  moment  her"  first  thought  was  to  revenge  her- 
self, and  then  to  save  herself.  All  the  faculties  of  her  mind 
were  at  a  tension  as  the  hair  stands  upright  on  the  head  with 
terror  and  the  clear  vision  of  drowning  men  became  almost 
miraculous  in  her.  As  she  fought  her  hands  began  to  grope 
for  weapons  and  at  last  found  the  ivory  butt  of  an  Oriental 
pistol;  but  at  the  same  time  she  had  the  presence  of  mind  to 
reflect  that  even  if  it  were  loaded  and  she  managed  to  cock  it, 
before  she  could  level  it  at  his  head  he  would  certainly  seize 
her  hand  and  deprive  her  of  her  last  means  of  salvation.  So 
she  determined  to  strike  in  another  way. 

All  this  only  took  an  instant.  He  indeed  saw  her  intentiop 
and  thrust  his  hand  forward  as  quick  as  lightning,  but  did 
not  succeed  in  timing  her  movement.  The  hands  crossed  and 
Basia  with  all  the  strength  of  despair  in  her  young  ano 
vigorous  fist  struck  him  like  lightning  between  the  eyes  with 
the  ivory  butt  of  the  pistol. 

It  was  such  a  terrible  blow  that  Azya  was  not  even  able  to 
utter  a  cry,  but  fell  backwards,  dragging  her  with  him  in  his 
fall. 

Basia  rose  in  an  instant  and,  springing  upon  her  horse 
she  started  like  a  whirlwind  away  from  the  Dnieper  towards 
the  wide  steppes. 

{The  curtain  of  fog  closed  behind  her.  The  horse  laid  his 
ears  back  and  dashed  on  wildly  among  the  rocks,  clefts,  gul- 
lies, and  trunks.  He  was  likely  to  run  into  some  cleft  or 
other  at  any  moment,  or  crush  himself  and  his  rider  against 
some  jutting  rock;  but  Basia  took  no  thought  of  anything, 
the  most  dreadful  peril  to  her  was  the  Lipkovs  and  Azya.  .  .  . 


PAN    MICHAEL.  331 

It  was  most  strange  that  now  when  she  had  delivered  her- 
self from  the  hands  of  the  robber  and  he  was  lying  to  all 
appearances  dead  among  the  rocks,  she  was  overcome  with 
dread.  Lying  along  the  horse's  back  with  her  face  on  his 
mane,  dashing  on  through  the  fog,  like  a  deer  hunted  by  the 
wolves,  she  now  began  to  be  more  afraid  of  Azya  than  she 
had  been  in  his  arms  and  she  felt  that  terror  and  helplessness 
that  a  weak  child  feels  .which,  when  wandering  aimlessly 
astray,  is  left  to  God's  protection.  Wailing  voices  began  to 
make  themselves  heard  in  her  heart  and  to  cry  out  for  pro- 
tection with  dread,  complaint,  and  piteousness: 

"Save,  Michael!    .    ;    .    Save,  Michael!    .    .    .  " 

The  horse  kept  rushing  on,  guided  by  a  marvellous  instinct 
he  cleared  hollows  and  swerved  quickly  to  avoid  rocky  cor- 
ners, till  at  last  his  hoofs  ceased  to  clatter  on  rocky  ground, 
and  he  had  evidently  reached  one  of  the  open  fields  that  were 
scattered  among  the  ravines. 

The  horse  was  covered  with  foam  and  the  breath  was  rat- 
tling in  his  nostrils,  but  still  he  galloped  on. 

"Where  shall  I  go?"  thought  Basia, 

And  immediately  the  answer  came: 

"To  Khreptyov!" 

But  her  heart  was  seized  with  fresh  terror  at  the  thought 
of  the  long  distance  to  traverse  in  that  terrible  wilderness. 
The  memory  also  came  like  a  flash  that  Azya  had  left  de- 
tachments of  his  Lipkovs  at  Mohilov  and  Yampol.  Undoubt- 
edly the  Lipkovs  were  all  in  the  plot;  they  were  all  devoted 
to  Azya  and  would  certainly  seize  her  and  carry  her  to  Rash- 
kov,  and  so  she  ought  to  ride  far  out  into  the  steppes  and 
then  turn  towards  the  north  and  thus  avoid  the  posts  on  the 
Dniester. 

There  was  all  the  more  reason  for  this  course  because  if 
she  was  pursued  the  men  would  certainly  keep  close  to  the 
river  and  in  the  meantime  it  might  be  possible  to  come  across 
some  of  the  Polish  troops  in  the  wide  steppes  on  their  return 
to  the  forts. 

Gradually  her  horse's  speed  began  to  decrease.  Basia  was 
an  experienced  rider  and  at  once  understood  that  she  must 
give  him  time  to  recover  his  wind  or  he  would  fall;  she  also 
recognized  that  if  she  should  be  left  without  a  horse  in  those 
wild  regions  she  would  be  lost. 

She  therefore  checked  him,  and  for  some  time  proceeded  at 
a  walk.  The  fog  was  growing  thinner,  but  a  cloud  of  hot 
eteam  was  rising  from  the  noor  animal. 


332  .      MICUAKL. 

Basia  began  -to  pray. 

Suddenly  she  heard  a  horse  neighing  in  the  fog  a  few  hun- 
dred yards  behind  her. 

The  hair  stood  upright  on  her  head. 

"My  horse  will  fall  dead,  but  that  one  will  too!"  she  cried 
as  she  again  galloped  forward. 

For  some  time  her  horse  sped  on  with  the  speed  of  a  dove 
pursued  by  a  falcon,  and  he  ran  on  almost  to  the  limit  of 
forces;  but  the  neighing  was  constantly  audible  behind  them. 
That  neigh  that  reached  them  through  the  fog  had  a  sound  at 
once  pining  and  threatening,  and  when  she  had  got  over  her 
first  terror  it  occurred  to  Basia  that  if  that  horse  had  a  rider 
he  would  not  neigh,  as  the  rider  would  stop  it  so  as  not  to  re- 
veal his  presence. 

"Can  it  be  that  it  is  only  Azya's  horse  following  me?" 
thought  Basia. 

For  precaution  she  took  both  pistols  out  of  her  holsters, 
but  it  was  unnecessary.  In  a  few  moments  a  dark  object  ap- 
peared through  the  lightening  fog  and  Azya's  horse  galloped 
up  with  flowing  mane  and  wide  nostrils.  On  seeing  the  pony 
he  approached  him  with  short,  sharp  neighs,  to  which  the 
other  immediately  responded. 

"Horsey,  horsey!"  cried  Basia. 

The  animal,  used  to  human  handling,  approached  and  al- 
lowed himself  to  be  seized  by  the  bridle.  Basia  raised  her 
eyes  to  Heaven  and  ejaculated: 

"The  protection  of  God!" 

In  truth  this  seizure  of  Azya's  horse  was  an  extremely  for- 
tunate circumstance  for  her.  In  the  first  place  she  now  pos- 
sessed the  two  best  horses  in  the  whole  party;  in  the  second 
she  could  change  horses;  and  thirdly  and  lastly,  the  presence 
of  the  animal  assured  her  that  there  would  be  no  immediate 
pursuit.  If  it  had  joined  the  rest  of  the  party  the  Lipkovs 
would  have  taken  the  alarm  and  would  immediately  have 
turned  back  to  seek  their  leader  without  fail;  now  it  will  not 
occur  to  them  that  anything  has  happened  to  him  and  they 
will  not  go  back  to  search  for  him  till  his  prolonged  absence 
has  made  them  anxious. 

"I  shall  be  far  away  by  that  time!"  was  the  conclusion  of 
Basia's  reflections. 

Then  again  she  remembered  that  Azya's  detachments  were 
posted  at  Yampol  and  Mohilov. 

"I  must  make  a  detour  through  the  wide  steppes  and  not 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


333 


approach  the  Dniester  till  in  the  neighborhood  of  Khreptyov. 
That  terrible  man  has  made  a  cunning  disposition  of  his 
forces,  but  God  will  save  me  from  them." 

Then  she  summoned  up  her  spirits  and  prepared  to  con- 
tinue her  flight.  At  the  pommel  of  Azya's  saddle  she  found  a 
musket,  a  powder-horn,  a  bullet-pouch,  a  box  of  hemp-seed, 
which  the  Tartar  was  in  the  habit  of  chewing  continually. 
Basia  shortened  Azya's  stirrups  to  her  own  feet  and  thought 
to  herself  that  all  along  the  way  she  would  live  on  those  seeds 
like  a  bird,  and  she  kept  them  carefully  by  her. 

She  made  up  her  mind  to  avoid  all  people  and  farms;  for  in 
those  wild  regions  more  evil  than  good  was  to  be  expected 
from  every  man.  Her  heart  was  seized  with  dread  as  she 
thought:  "How  shall  I  feed  the  horses?"  They  could  scrape 
out  grass  from  under  the  snow  and  crop  moss  from  the  crev- 
ices of  the  rocks;  but  were  they  not  likely  to  succumb  from 
bad  fodder  and  prolonged  travelling?  She  could  not  do 
without  them,  however.  .  .  . 

She  had  another  dread:  "Would  she  go  astray  in  the  wilder- 
ness?" That  might  be  readily  avoided  by  following  the  course 
of  the  Dniester,  but  she  could  not  take  that  way.  What 
might  happen  if  she  entered  the  great,  dark,  and  pathless 
forests?  How  would  she  know  whether  she  was  steering 
northwards  or  in  any  other  direction,  if  she  were  to  have  foggy 
days, — sunless  days  and  starless  nights?  The  wilderness  was 
swarming  with  wild  beasts;  but  she  did  not  care  so  much  about 
that  as  she  was  stout-hearted  and  armed.  Wolves  hunting 
in  packs  might  be  dangerous,  it  is  true,  but  on  the  whole  she 
dreaded  men  more  than  beasts,  and  most  of  all  she  dreaded  to 
go  astray. 

"Ah,  God  will  guide  me,  and  let  me  get  back  to  Michael," 
she  said  aloud. 

Then  she  crossed  herself,  wiped  away  with  her  sleeve  the 
moisture  that  chilled  her  pale  cheeks,  reconnoiterd  the  coun- 
try with  sharp  eyes,  and  urged  her  horse  into  a  gallop. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

Nobody  -thought  of  looking  for  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey. 
and  so  he  lay  on  the  ground  until  he  recovered  consciousness. 

When  he  did  so  so  he  sat  up,  and  began  to  look  about  him, 
wanting  to  know  what  had  happened. 

But  everything  looked  dark  to  him  and  then  he  discovered 
that  he  could  only  see  out  of  one  eye,  and  that  badly.  The 
other  was  either  destroyed  or  filled  with  blood. 

Azya  raised  his  hands  to  his  face.  His  fingers  found  icicles 
of  coagulated  blood  of  his  moustache;  his  mouth  was  also 
full  of  blood  that  was  choking  him  so  that  he  had  to  keep 
coughing  and  spitting  it  out;  this  spitting  caused  excrucia- 
ting pain  to  his  face;  he  raised  his  hand  above  his  moustache 
but  immediately  dropped  it  with  a  moan  of  agony. 

Basia's  blow  had  smashed  the  bridge  of  his  nose  and 
damaged  his  cheek-bone.  For  some  time  he  sat  motionless, 
and  then  comemnced  to  gaze  about  him  with  the  eye  that 
still  preserved  some  sight,  and  seeing  a  patch  of  snow  in  a 
crevice  he  crawled  up  to  it,  grasped  a  handful  and  applied 
it  to  his  crushed  face. 

This  immediately  afforded  great  relief,  and  while  the  melt- 
ing snow  was  flowing  down  over  his  moustache  in  red  streaks, 
he  gathered  another  handful  and  again  applied  it.  He  also 
began  to  swallow  the  snow  gredily  and  this  gave  him  relief. 
Presently  the  great  weight  that  seemed  to  be  pressing  on  his 
brain  seemed  to  be  lightened  so  that  he  was  able  to  recall  all 
that  had  occurred.  At  first  however  he  felt  no  fury,  anger, 
nor  despair;  all  other  feelings  were  deadened  by  physical 
pain  and  only  one  desire  remained, — to  save  himself  quickly. 

After  eating  several  more  handfuls  of  snow  Azya  began 
to  look  for  his  horse;  it  wasn't  there;  then  he  saw  that  unless 
he  wanted  to  wait  till  his  Lipkovs  came  to  search  for  him  he 
must  go  on  foot. 

Supporting  himself  with  his  hands  he  tried  to  rise  from 
the  earth,  but  howled  with  pain  and  sat  down  again. 

He  sat  there  for  about  an  hour  and  then  made  another 

(334)  -    - 


PAN   MICHAEL.  335 

effort.  This  time  he  so  far  succeeded  that  he  got  up  and 
leaning  his  back  against  a  cliff,,  managed  to  keep  his  feet; 
but  when  he  remembered  that  he  had  to  leave  this  support 
and  take  one  step  after  another  in  the  open  space  he  was 
so  overcome  with  a  feeling  of  dread  and  weariness  that  he  sat 
down  again. 

However  he  mastered  his  weakness;  he  drew  his  sabre  and 
tried  to  advance  leaning  upon  it;  he  succeeded.  After  a 
fow  paces  he  felt  that  his  body  and  feet  were  strong  and 
under  control,  but  his  head  did  not  seem  to  belong  to  him 
jind  like  a  tremendous  weight  swayed  now  to*the  right,  now 
to  the  left,  now  to  the  rear,  now  to  the  front.  He  also  had 
a  feeling  as  though  he  were  carrying  that  shaking  and  over- 
heavy  head  with  extreme  caution  and  was  extremely  afraid 
of  dropping  it  on  the  stones  and  breaking  it.  It  sometimes 
also  turned  him  around  as  if  trying  to  make  him  go  in  a 
circle.  Sometimes  darkness  came  over  his  sole  eye,  and  then 
he  leaned  on  his  sabre  with  both  hands. 

The  dizziness  in  his  head  gradually  passed  away;  but  the 
pain  constantly  increased  and  seemed  to  be  boring  into  his 
brow,  and  eyes,  and  entire  head,  till  groans  forced  themselves 
from  Azya's  breast. 

His  groans  were  echoed  back  from  the  rocks  and  he  ad- 
vanced through  that  wilderness  bleeding  and  horrible,  re- 
sembling a  vampire  more  than  a  man. 

It  was  already  growing  dark  when  he  heard  the  tramp  of 
a  horse  before  him. 

It  was  the  Lipkov  corporal  coming  for  orders. 

That  evening  Azya  had  sufficient  strength  to  give  orders 
for  the  pursuit,  but  immediately  afterwards  he  lay  down 
on  some  skins  and  could  see  no  one  for  three  days  but  the 
(ireek  barber-surgeons  who  dressed  his  wounds,  and  Halim 
who  assisted  him.  Not  till  the  fourth  day  did  he  recover 
his  speech  and  with  it  the  remembrance  of  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

His  fevered  thoughts  immediately  flew  to  Basia.  He 
saw  her  fleeing  among  rocks  and  through  desolate  places; 
she  seemed  like  a  bird  ever  flying  from  him;  he  saw  her  ap- 
proaching Khreptyov  and  then  in  the  arms  of  her  husband, 
and  at  that  vision  he  was  seized  with  anguish  more, poignant 
oven  Hum  his  wound,  and  with  it  was  mingled  sorrow  and 
shame  for  the  calamity  which  had  overtaken  him. 

"She  has  fled,  she  has  fled!"  he  repeated  again  and  again; 


336  PAN    MICHAEL. 

and  at  times  his  rage  so  overwhelmed  him  that  he  was  again 
in  danger  of  losing  his  senses.  "Woe!"  he  cried  to  Halim's 
efforts  to  calm  him,  assuring  him  that  Basia  could  not 
escape  the  pursuit;  and  he  kicked  off  the  skins  with  which 
the  old  Tartar  had  covered  him  and  threatened  both  him 
and  the  Greek  with  his  knife.  He  howled  like  a  wild  beast 
and  attempted  to  spring  to  his  feet  to  fly  himself,  and  come 
up  with  her  and  capture  her,  and  then  in  his  fury  and  wild 
passion  throttle  her  with  his  own  hands. 

At  moments  he  would  wander  in  delirium  and  call  to 
Halim  to  bring  the  little  knight's  head  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible and  imprison  his  wife  there  bound  in  the  room. 
Sometimes  he  talked  to  her,  imploring  and  threatening  and 
then  extending  his  arms  to  draw  her  to  his  side.  Finally 
he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep  which  lasted  for  twenty-four  hours; 
when  he  woke  the  fever  had  entirely  left  him  and  he  was 
able  to  see  Krychinski,  an'd  Adurovich. 

They  were  anxious,  not  knowing  what  to  begin.  It  was 
true  that  the  forces  that  had  departed  under  young  Novovy- 
eyski  would  not  return  for  two  weeks;  but  some  unexpected 
event  might  hasten  their  coming  and  in  that  case  it  was  ne- 
cessary to  know  what  measures  to  take.  It  is  true  that  Kry- 
chinski and  Adurovich  were  only  pretending  to  return  to  the 
service  of  the  Commonwealth;  but  Azya  was  arranging  every- 
thing; only  he  could  direct  them  what  to  do  in  case  of  need; 
only  he  ^could  point  out  what  course  promised  the  greatest 
profit:  to  return  at  once  to  the  Sultan's  dominions,  or  to 
keep  up  the  sham,  and  how  long,  that  they  were  serving  the 
Comonwealth;  but  they  expected  him  to  order  them  to  wait 
for  the  war  before  disclosing  their  treason  so  as  to  render 
it  more  effective. 

They  would  regard  his  suggestions  as  commands,  for  he 
had  imposed  his  will  upon  them  as  leader  and  the  head  of 
the  whole  business,  the  most  cunning  and  influential  as 
well  as  being  celebrated  with  all  the  hordes  as  the  son  of 
Tukhay  Bey. 

Therefore  they  hastened  to  his  bedside  and  bowed  down 
before  him.  He  greeted  them.  He  was  still  feeble  with  his 
bandaged  fdce  and  only  one  eye,  but  was  convalescent. 

"I  am  ill,"  he  said  at  once.  "The  woman  whom  I  desired 
to  take  unto  myself  tore  herself  out  of  my  hands  after 
wounding  me  with  the  butt  of  a  pistol.  She  was  the  wife  of 
Volodiyovski,  the  commandant;  may  pestilence  seize  him 
and  all  his  race!" 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


337 


"May  it  be  as  thou  hast  spoken!"  answered  the  two  chiefs. 

"May  God  grant  you,  faithful  men,  fortune  and  success !" 

"And  to  thee  -also,  oh  Master!" 

Then  they  began  to  talk  as  to  what  should  be  done. 

Azya  said:  "It  is  imposible  to  delay  or  put  off  serving  the 
Sultan  till  the  war  is  begun:  after  what  has  occurred  with  this 
woman  they  will  not  trust  us,  but  will  attack  us  with  sabres. 
But  before  that  happens,  we  will  fall  upon  this  place  and 
burn  it  to  the  glory  of  God.  We  will  capture  the  handful 
of  soldiers  that  are  left,  and  also  the  townspeople  who  are 
the  subjects  of  the  Commonwealth,  we  will  share  the  prop- 
erty of  the  Wallachians,  Armenians,  and  Greeks,  and  pass 
over  the  Dniester  to  the  land  of  the  Sultan. 

Krychinski  and  Adurovich  had  long  lived  as  nomads 
among  the  wild  hordes  and  savages  and  ravaged  with  them 
and  become  altogether  savage;  so  their  eyes  sparkled. 

"Thanks  to  you,"  cried  Krychinski,  "we  are  admitted  to 
this  place  which  God  now  gives  into  our  hands.  .  .  .  " 

"Did  not  Novovyeyski  make  any  objection?"  asked  Azya. 

"Novovyeyski  knew  that  we  were  coming  over  to  the  Com- 
monwealth and  that  you  were  coming  to  meet  us;  he  con- 
siders us  his  men  just  as  he  does  you." 

"We  stayed  on  the  Moldavian  bank,"  added  Adurovich, 
"but  Krychinski  and  I  visited  him  as  guests.  He  received 
us  as  nobles,  saying,  'By  your  present  conduct  you  blot  out 
former  offenses;  and  since  the  Hetman  pardons  you  on  Azya's 
security  it  would  not  be  right  for  me  to  regard  you  with  sus- 
picion. He  even  wanted  me  to  enter  the  town,  but  we  said: 
'We  will  not  do  so  till  Azya,  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  comes 
with  the  Hetman's  permission.  .  .  .  But  when  he  was 
leaving  he  gave  us  another  feast  and  begged  us  to  watch 
over  the  town." 

"At  that  feast,"  added  Krychinski,  "we  saw  his  father 
and  the  old  woman  who  is  seeking  her  captive  husband  and 
the  young  lady  whom  Novovyeyski  wants  to  marry." 

"Ah!"  said  Azya,  "I  did  not  think  that  they  were  .all  here, 
and  I  have  brought  Panna  Novovyeyski." 

He  clapped  his  hands;  Halim  immediately  appeared  and 
Azya  said  to  him:  "When  my  Lipkovs  see  the  place  in  flames, 
let  them  fall  on  the  soldiers  in  the  fort  and  cut  their  throats, 
and  bind  the  women,  and  the  old  noble,  and  keep  them  under 
guard  till  they  receive  further  orders  from  me." 

Then  he  turned  to  Krychinski  and  Adurovich: 
22 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

not  take  part  in  it  myself  because  I  am  weak;  but 
I  wil  mount  iny  horse  and  look  on.  But,  dear  comrades, 
begin,  begin!" 

Krychinski  and  Adurovich  immediately  rushed  out.  Azya 
followed  and  ordered  a  horse  to  be  brought;  then  he  rode  to 
the  stockade  to  watch  from  the  gate  of  the  high  fort  what 
should  happen  in  the  town. 

Many  of  his  men  had  begun  to  climb  the  wall  to  gaze 
through  the  piles  and  gloat  over  the  slaughter.  Those  of 
Novovyeyski's  men  who  had  not  gone  to  the  steppes  seeing 
the  Lipkovs  gathered  together  and  supposing  that  there 
was  something  to  be  seen  in  the  town,  mingled  with  them 
without  the  least  fear  or  suspicion.  Moreover,  there  were 
scarcely  twenty  of  these;  the  rest  were  scattered  in  the  drink- 
ing places. 

In  the  meantime  the  forces  of  Krychinski  and  Adurovich 
did  not  take  an  instant  to  scatter  through  the  town.  They 
were  composed  almost  exclusively  of  Lipkovs  and"  Cheremis, 
and  were  therefore  former  dwellers  in  the  Commonwealth 
and  the  majority  of  them  nobles;  but  as  they  had  long  since 
left  its  dominions  they  had  grown  much  like  wild  Tartars 
during  they  years  of  wandering.  Their  original  clothes  had 
fallen  to  pieces  and  they  now  wore  sheepskin  coats  with  the 
wool  outside.  They  wore  them  next  to  their  skin  which  was 
tanned  with  the  winds  of  the  steppes  and  the  smoke  of  fires; 
but  they  had  better  weapons  than  the  wild  Tartars; — they 
all  had  sabres  and  bows  seasoned  with  fire,  and  many  had  mus- 
kets. Their  faces  were  as  cruel  and  blood-thirsty  as  those 
of  their  brethern  of  the  Dobrudja,  Byalogrod,or  the  Crimea. 

They  now  scattered  through  the  town  and  began  to  run 
about  in  every  direction  uttering  shrill  cries,  as  if  to  en- 
courage and  excite  each  other  to  murder  and  pillage.  But 
although  many  of  them  had  put  their  knives  between  their 
teeth  in  the  Tartar  fashion,  the  townspeople  who,  as  in  Yam- 
pol,  consisted  of  Wallachians,  Armenians,  Greeks,  and  some 
Tartar  merchants,  did  not  regard  them  with  any  suspicion. 
The  shops  were  open;  the  merchants,  sitting  in  front  of 
them  in  Turkish  fashion  on  benches,  were  passing  the  beads 
of  their  rosaries  through  their  fingers.  The  cries  of  the 
Lipkovs  only  attracted  the  curiosity  of  people  who  thought 
they  were  playing  some  game. 

But  suddenly  smoke  arose  from  the  corners  of  the  market- 
square  aj\d  from  the  lips  of  all  the  Tartars  rose  such  terrible 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


339 


bowlings  that  terror  seized  the  Wallachians,  Armenians,  and 
Greeks,  and  their  wives  and  children.  A  shower  of  arrows 
immediately  rained  on  the  harmless  inhabitants.  Their  cries 
and  the  noise  of  door  and  windows  hurriedly  shutting  mingled 
with  the  tramp  of  horses  and  the  howls  of  the  pillagers. 

The  market  was  full  of  smoke.  Cries  were  raised  of 
"Fire!  fire!"  At  the  same  instant  the  Tartars  began  to  break 
open  shops  and  windows  and  drag  out  the  terrified  women 
by  the  hair,  and  cast  into  the  street  furniture,  saffian,  mer- 
chandise, and  beds  giving  forth  clouds  of  feathers.  Then 
were  heard  the  groans  of  slaughtered  men,  lamentations,  the 
howling  of  dogs,  the  bellowing  of  cattle  caught  by  fire  in  rear 
buildings;  and  red  tongues  of  flame  visible  even  in  daylight 
amid  the  black  wreaths  of  smoke,  shot  higher  and  higher 
to  the  heavens. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  the  tumult  Azya's  troopers  hurled 
themselves  on  the  infantry  in  the  fort;  the  majority  of  them 
were  unarmed. 

There  was  not  the  slightest  struggle;  many  knives  were 
buried  in  each  Polish  breast  without  a  word  of  warning  and 
then  the  heads  of  the  unfortunates  were  cut  off  and  taken 
and  laid  at  the  feet  of  Azya's  horse. 

The  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  allowed  most  of  his  men  to  join 
their  brethren  in  the  work  of  blood  while  he  stood  and  looked 
on. 

The  work  of  Krychinski  and  Adurovich  was  concealed  by 
smoke;  the  odor  of  burned  flesh  ascended  to  the  fort.  The 
town  was  burning  like  a  great  pyre  and  smoke  hid  everything 
from  view;  only  amid  the  smoke  the  occasional  report  of  a 
musket  was  heard,  like  thunder  in  a  cloud,  or  a  fugitive  was 
risible,  or  a  throng  of  pursuing  Lipkovs. 

Azya  stood  motionless  and  looked  on  with  ferocious  joy 
in  his  heart;  his  lips  parted  in  a  savage  smile  and  revealed 
his  white  gleaming  teeth:  that  smile  was  so  much  the  more 
savage  from  being  mingled  with  the  pain  of  his  healing 
wounds.  The  heart  of  the  Lipkov  was  full  of  pride  as  well 
as  joy. 

He  had  cast  away  the  burden  'of  pretence  and  for  the  first 
time  he  now  gave  rein  to  his  hatred,  hidden  for  so  many 
years;  he  now  felt  that  he  was  himself,  the  real  Azya,  the 
son  of  Tukhay  Bey. 

But  at  the  same  time  his  heart  was  filled  with  fierce  regret 
that  Basia  did  not  witness  that  conflagration  and  carnage 


MICHAEL. 

"Traitor!"  he  cried,  "you  shall  answer  before  a  judge  for 
your  deeds.  .  .  .  Serpent!  ...  I  have  yet  a  son!" 

"You  also  have  a  daughter  001  whose  account  you  ordered 
me  to  be  flogged  to  death;  and  that  daughter  I  will  now  pre- 
sent to  the  meanest  of  the  horde  for  his  service  and  pleasure." 

"Master,  give  her  to  me!"  suddenly  cried  Adurovich. 

Eva  cast  herself  at  his  feet  and  cried,  "Azya!  Azya!  I  have 
always — " 

But  he  spurned  her  with  his  foot  and  Adurovich  seized 
her  by  the  arms  and  began  to  drag  her  along  the  floor.  Pan 
Novovyeyski's  face  turned  from  -purple  to  blue;  the  cords 
cracked  on  his  writhing  arms  and  unintelligible  words  es- 
caped his  lips.  Azya  rose  from  the  skins  and  approached 
him,  slowly  at  first,  and  then  more  quickly,  like  a  wild 
animal  preparing  to  spring  upon  its  prey.  He  reached  him 
and  clenched  his  fingers  in  old  Novovyeyski's  moustache  and 
with  the  other  hand  began  to  beat  him  mercilessly  about 
the  head  and  face. 

He  bellowed  hoarsely  as  the  old  noble  fell  to  the  floor 
Azya  then  knelt  on  Novovyeyski's  breast  and  then  the  bright 
flash  of  a  knife  was  seen. 

"Mercy!  help!"  screamed  Eva.  But  Adurovich  struck 
her  on  the  head  and  put  his  broad  hand  over  her  mouth; 
meanwhile  Azya  was  slaying  Pan  Novovyeyski. 

It  was  such  a  ghastly  sight  that  even  the  blood  of  the 
Tartar  officers  ran  cold,  for  Azya  with  deliberate  ferocity 
slowly  drew  his  knife  across  the  neck  of  the  ill-fated  noble 
whose  gaspings  and  chokings  were  frightful.  From  his 
severed  veins  the  blood  spurted  more  and  more  violently  and 
streamed  across  the  floor.  Then  the  rattling  and  gurgling 
gradually  ceased  till  the  last  gasps  were  audible  in  the  severed 
throat  and  the  dying  man's  feet  convulsively  dug  the  floor. 

Azya  rose. 

His  eyes  fell  on  the  pale  and  sweet  face  of  Zosia  Boska  who 
appeared  to  be  dead  as  she  hung  senseless  on  the  arm  of  a 
Tartar  who  held  her,  and  said: 

"I  will  keep  this  girl  for  myself,  till  I  give  her  away  or  sell 
her." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  Tartars:  "We  will  now  only  await 
the  return  of  the  pursuit  and  then  go  to  the  lands  of  the  Sul- 
tan." 

The  pursuit  returned  two  days  later  with  empty  hands. 
Therefore  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  set  out  for  the  land  of  the 
Sultan  with  a  heart  full  of  rage  and  despair,  leaving  behind 
a  heap  erf  grey  and  bluiih  nuns, 


CHAPTER  IV, 

From  ten  to  twelve  Ukraine  miles  separated  the  towns 
through  which  Basia  had  travelled  from  Khreptyov  to  Rash- 
kov,  or  the  whole  route  along  the  Dniester  amounted  to 
thirty.  It  is  true  that  they  had  started  each  morning  while 
it  was  still  dark  and  not  halted  till  late  at  night;  but  still 
they  made  the  whole  journey,  including  refreshments,  and  in 
spite  of  difficult  passages  and  crossings,  in  three  days.  At 
that  day  people  did  not  make  such  quick  journeys  as  a  rule; 
bat  whoever  had  the  will  or  the  need  could  do  so.  Taking 
this  into  consideration.  Basia  calculated  that  the  journey 
back  to  Khreptyov  ought  not  to  take  so  long,  especially  as 
she  was  making  it  on  horseback,  and  this  was  a  flight  in  which 
her  safety  depended  on  celerity. 

However,  she  discovered  her  mistake  on  the  first  day,  for, 
unable  to  escape  by  the  road  along  the  Dniester,  she  made 
a  detour  through  the  steppes  and  this  considerably  lengthened 
the  road.  Moreover  she  might  lose  herself  and  she  was  likely 
to  do  so;  she  might  come  across  thawed  rivers;  or  dense  im- 
passable forests;  or  marshes  that  were  not  frozen  over  even  in 
Winter;  she  might  suffer  injury  from  men  or  wild  beasts; 
therefore,  though  she  decided  to  keep  on  without  stopping/ 
yet  she  told  herself  that  even  if  all  went  well  God  knew  when 
she  would  reach  Khreptyov. 

She  had  succeeded  in  tearing  herself  out  of  Azya's  arms; 
but  what  would  happen  farther  on?  Undoubtedly  anything 
was  preferable  to  those  vile  arms;  and  yet  her  blood  ran  cold 
at  the  thought  of  what  might  be  in  store  for  her. 

It  immediately  occurred  to  her  that  if  she  spared  the 
horses  she  might  be  overtaken  by  the  Lipkovs,  who  were  thor- 
oughly familiar  with  that  wilderness;  and  to  hide  from  discov- 
ery and  pursuit  was  almost  impossible.  They  hunted  Tartars 
even  in  the  Spring  and  Summer  when  there  was  no  snow  or 
soft  earth  to  retain  the  tracks  of  horses;  they  could  read  the 
steppe  like  an  open  book;  they  scrutinized  those  plains  like 
eagles;  they  could  follow  a  scent  in  them  like  hounds;  their 

(343) 


2^2  PAN    MICHAEL. 

"Traitor!"  he  cried,  "you  shall  answer  before  a  judge  for 
your  deeds.  .  .  .  Serpent!  ...  I  have  yet  a  son!" 

"You  also  have  a  daughter  on  whose  account  you  ordered 
me  to  be  flogged  to  death;  and  that  daughter  I  will  now  pre- 
sent to  the  meanest  of  the  horde  for  his  service  and  pleasure." 

"Master,  give  her  to  me!"  suddenly  cried  Adurovich. 

Eva  cast  herself  at  his  feet  and  cried,  "Azya!  Azya!  I  have 
always — " 

But  he  spurned  her  with  his  foot  and  Adurovich  seized 
her  by  the  arms  and  began  to  drag  her  along  the  floor.  Pan 
Novovyeyski's  face  turned  from  -purple  to  blue;  the  cords 
cracked  on  his  writhing  arms  and  unintelligible  words  es- 
caped his  lips.  Azya  rose  from  the  skins  and  approached 
him,  slowly  at  first,  and  then  more  quickly,  like  a  wild 
animal  preparing  to  spring  upon  its  prey.  He  reached  him 
and  clenched  his  fingers  in  old  Novovyeyski's  moustache  and 
with  the  other  hand  began  to  beat  him  mercilessly  about 
the  head  and  face. 

He  bellowed  hoarsely  as  the  old  noble  fell  to  the  floor 
Azya  then  knelt  on  Novovyeyski's  breast  and  then  the  bright 
flash  of  a  knife  was  seen. 

"Mercy!  help!"  screamed  Eva.  But  Adurovich  struck 
her  on  the  head  and  put  his  broad  hand  over  her  mouth; 
meanwhile  Azya  was  slaying  Pan  Novovyeyski. 

It  was  such  a  ghastly  sight  that  even  the  blood  of  the 
Tartar  officers  ran  cold,  for  Azya  with  deliberate  ferocity 
slowly  drew  his  knife  across  the  neck  of  the  ill-fated  noble 
whose  gaspings  and  chokings  were  frightful.  From  his 
severed  veins  the  blood  spurted  more  and  more  violently  and 
streamed  across  the  floor.  Then  the  rattling  and  gurgling 
gradually  ceased  till  the  last  gasps  were  audible  in  the  severed 
throat  and  the  dying  man's  feet  convulsively  dug  the  floor. 

Azya  rose. 

His  eyes  fell  on  the  pale  and  sweet  face  of  Zosia  Boska  who 
appeared  to  be  dead  as  she  hung  senseless  on  the  arm  of  a 
Tartar  who  held  her,  and  said: 

"I  will  keep  this  girl  for  myself,  till  I  give  her  away  or  sell 
her." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  Tartars:  "We  will  now  only  await 
the  return  of  the  pursuit  and  then  go  to  the  lands  of  the  Sul- 
tan." 

The  pursuit  returned  two  days  later  with  empty  hands. 
Therefore  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  set  out  for  the  land  of  the 
Sultan  with  a  heart  full  of  rage  and  despair,  leaving  behind 
feim  a  heap  of  grey  and  bluish  ruins, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

From  ten  to  twelve  Ukraine  miles  separated  the  towns 
through  which  Basia  had  travelled  from  Khreptyov  to  Rash- 
kov,  or  the  whole  route  along  the  Dniester  amounted  to 
thirty.  It  is  true  that  they  had  started  each  morning  while 
it  was  still  dark  and  not  halted  till  late  at  night;  but  still 
they  made  the  whole  journey,  including  refreshments,  and  in 
spite  of  difficult  passages  and  crossings,  in  three  days.  At 
that  day  people  did  not  make  such  quick  journeys  as  a  rule; 
but  whoever  had  the  will  or  the  need  could  do  so.  Taking 
this  into  consideration.  Basia  calculated  that  the  journey 
back  to  Khreptyov  ought  not  to  take  so  long,  especially  as 
she  was  making  it  on  horseback,  and  this  was  a  flight  in  which 
her  safety  depended  on  celerity. 

However,  she  discovered  her  mistake  on  the  first  day,  for, 
unable  to  escape  by  the  road  along  the  Dniester,  she  made 
a  detour  through  the  steppes  and  this  considerably  lengthened 
the  road.  Moreover  she  might  lose  herself  and  she  was  likely 
to  do  so;  she  might  come  across  thawed  rivers;  or  dense  im- 
passable forests;  or  marshes  that  were  not  frozen  over  even  in 
Winter;  she  might  suffer  injury  from  men  or  wild  beasts; 
therefore,  though  she  decided  to  keep  on  without  stopping/ 
yet  she  told  herself  that  even  if  all  went  well  God  knew  when 
she  would  reach  Khreptyov. 

She  had  succeeded  in  tearing  herself  out  of  Azya's  arms; 
but  what  would  happen  farther  on?  Undoubtedly  anything 
was  preferable  to  those  vile  arms;  and  yet  her  blood  ran  cold 
at  the  thought  of  what  might  be  in  store  for  her. 

It  immediately  occurred  to  her  that  if  she  spared  the 
horses  she  might  be  overtaken  by  the  Lipkovs,  who  were  thor- 
oughly familiar  with  that  wilderness;  and  to  hide  from  discov- 
ery and  pursuit  was  almost  impossible.  They  hunted  Tartars 
even  in  the  Spring  and  Summer  when  there  was  no  snow  or 
soft  earth  to  retain  the  tracks  of  horses;  they  could  read  the 
steppe  like  an  open  book;  they  scrutinized  those  plains  like 
eagles;  they  could  follow  a  scent  in  them  like  hounds;  their 

(343) 


344  P&N   MICHAEL. 

whole  life  was  spent  in  hunting.  Vainly,  again  and  again, 
had  Tartars  marched  in  the  si  reams  so  as  to  leave  no  trail; 
Cossacks,  Lipkovs,  and  Clieremis,  as  well  as  the  Polish  war- 
riors of  the  steppes  knew  how  to  iind  them  and  to  meet  their 
tricks  with  counter- tricks  and  deliver  an  attack  as  suddenly 
as  if  they  had  sprung  up  from  the  earth.  llo\v  was  she  to 
escape  from  such  men  except  by  leaving  them  so  far  behind 
that  the  very  distance  made  capture  impossible?  But  in  that 
case  her  horses  would  give  out. 

"They  will  inevitably  fall  dead  if  they  keep  on  as  they 
have  gone  hitherto,"  thought  Basia,  looking  in  terror  at 
their  wet  steaming  flanks  and  the  foam  falling  to  the  earth 
in  flakes. 

So  from  time  to  time  she  slowed  up  and  listened;  but  she 
heard  pursuing  voices  in  every  breath  of  the  wind,  the  rustling 
of  the  leaves  on  the  edges  of  the  ravines,  in  the  noise  made  by 
the  dry  reeds  of  the  steppe  as  they  rubbed  against  one  another, 
in  the  flapping  of  the  wings  of  a  passing  bird,  and  even  in  the 
silence  of  the  wilderness  which  seemed  to  hum  in  her  ears. 

In  terror  she  again  urged  her  horses  into  a  wild  gallop  till 
warned  by  their  snorting  that  the  speed  could  not  be  main- 
tained. 

The  weight  of  her  loneliness  and  helplessness  became  more 
and  more  crushing.  Ah!  what  an  orphan  she  felt!  What  bit- 
terness, as  great  as  unjust,  filled  her  heart  towards  everybody, 
the  nearest  and  dearest,  who  had  thus  forsaken  her! 

Then  she  reflected  that  certainly  God  must  be  punishing 
her  for  her  passion  for  adventure  and  her  eagerness  for  all 
kinds  of  hunts  and  expeditions,  often  against  her  husband's 
wish;  and  for  her  frivolity  and  want  of  sedateness.  As  she 
thought  of  all  this  she  wept  bitterly,  and  raising  her  little 
head  she  sobbed: 

"Chastise,  but  do  not  forsake  me!  Do  not  punish  Michael! 
Michael  is  innocent." 

In  the  meantime  night  was  coming  on,  accompanied  by 
cold,  darkness,  uncertainty  of  the  road,  and  disquiet.  Objects 
were  becoming  obscure,  dim,  and  losing  their  forms,  besides 
seeming  to  acquire  a  mysterious  life  and  to  be  crouching. 
The  peaks  of  lofty  rocks  resembled  heads  in  pointed  and 
round  caps, — heads  that  were  peering  from  behind  some  kind 
of  gigantic  wall,  watching  to  see  who  wius  passing  below  with  a 
silent  and  malignant  glance.  Branches  of  trees,  moved  by  the 
wind,  seemed  'to  be  gesticulating  like  people:  some  of  them 


PAN  MICHAEL.  345 

beckoned  to  Basia.  as  if  trying  to>  call  her  and  tell  her  some 
awful  secret;  and  others  seemed  to  utter  the  warning:  "Don't 
come  near!" 

The  trunks  of  overturned  trees  looked  like  monstrous 
beings  crouching  to  spring  at  her.  Basia  was  very  bold 
and  daring,  but,  like  all  the  people  of  that  time,  she  was  super- 
stitious. When  darkness  fell  entirely,  her  hair  stood  upright 
on  her  head  as  she  shivered  all  over,  and  thought  of  the  un- 
clean powers  that  might  inhabit  those  regions.  She  especially 
dreaded  vampires;  the  belief  in  these  beings  was  rife  all  along 
the  Dniester,  especially  on  account  of-the  vicinity  of  Moldavia, 
and  especially  the  places  immediately  about  Yampol  and 
Rashkov  had  an  evil  reputation  in  thai  matter.  What  num- 
bers of  people  there  daily  met  with  a  sudden  death,  without 
either  confession  or  absolution!  All  the  stories  told  by  the 
cavaliers  at  Khreptyov  in  the  evenings  by  the  fireside  came 
into  Basia's  mind;  tales  of  deep  chasms  in  which,  when  the 
wind  blew,  moans  of  "Jesus!  Jesus!"  were  suddenly  heard, 
and  pale  lights,  accompanied  by  pantings;  of  rocky  cliffs  that 
were  heard  to  laugh;  of  pallid  children,  sucklings,  with  green 
eyes  and  monstrous  heads,  infants  who  entreated  to  be  taken 
up  on  horseback  and  when  there  they  began  to  suck  blood; 
lastly,  bodiless  heads  walking  on  soldier-legs;  and  most  hor- 
rible of  all,  those  ghastly  abominations,  full-sized  vampires,  or 
Brukolaki,  as  they  were  called  in  Wallachia,  who  immediately 
sprang  upon  people. 

Then  she  began  to  cross  herself  and  did  not  stop  till  her 
hand  was  tired,  and  even  then,  she  repeated  the  Litany,  as 
these  were  the  only  effective  workings  against  unclean  powers. 

She  got  some  comfort  out  of  the  horses  who  did  not  ex- 
hibit any  fear,  but  snorted  lustily.  Now  and  then  she  would 
pat  her  pony  on  the  neck,  as  if  trying  by  that  means  to  assure 
herself  that  she  was  in  a  world  of  reality. 

The  night  which  at  first  was  extremely  dark,  gradually  be- 
came clearer,  and  at  length  the  stars  began  to  shimmer 
through  the  light  mist.  This  was  a  very  lucky  thing  for 
Basia,  because  in  the  first  place  it  calmed  her  fear?  and,  in 
the  second,  by  keeping  her  eye  on  the  Great  Wain,  ehe  could 
direct  herself  northwards,  towards  Khreptyov.  Looking 
a.bout  her,  she  calculated  that  she  had  progressed  a  distance 
from  the  Dniester,  for  the  rocks  were  more  scarce,  the  country 
more  open,  there  were  more  hills  covered  with  oak  woods,  and 
wide  plains  often  appeared. 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

Nevertheless,  again  and  again  she  was  obliged  to  cross  ra- 
vines, and  she  descended  into  them  with  a  heart  quaking  with 
fear,  for  down  in  those  depths,  it  was  always  pitch  dark,  with 
sharp,  biting  cold.  Some  of  them  were  so  precipitous  that 
she  had  to  make  a  detour,  and  consequently,  she  lost  much 
time  and  made  the  journey  longer. 

However,  it  was  still  worse  with  streams  and  rivers,  a  whole 
system  of  which  flowed  into  the  Dniester  from  the  east.  They 
Avere  all  thawed,  and  the  horses  snorted  with  terror  as  in  the 
night  they  plunged  into  waters  of  unknown  depths.  Basia 
only  attempted  to  cross  in  those  places  where  the  shelving 
bank  presupposed  that  the  river,  which  was  wide  there,  was 
also  shallow.  This  indeed  was  generally  the  case,  although, 
at  some  of  the  fords,  the  water  reached  nearly  up  to  the 
horses'  bellies;  in,  such  cases,  Basia  followed  the  example  of 
soldiers  and  knelt  on  the  saddle,  holding  on  to  the  pommel, 
trying  not  to  wet  her  feet.  However,  she  was  not  always  suc- 
cessful in  this,  and  soon  her  legs  up  to  the  knees  were  numb 
with  cold. 

"God  send  the  day!  and  then  I  will  ride  faster,"  she  cried 
from  time  to  time. 

At  length,  she  came  to  a  broad  plain  with  a  straggling 
forest,  and  seeing  that  the  horses  could  scarcely  drag  one  foot 
after  the  other,  she  halted  to  rest.  They  both  stretched  out 
their  necks  to  the  ground  in  unison,  and  stretching  out  one 
fore-foot,  eagerly  began  to  crop  the  moss  and  withered  grass. 
The  deep  silence  of  the  forest  was  only  broken  by  the  short 
breath  of  the  horses  and  the  munching  of  the  grass  by  their 
strong  jaws. 

When  they  had  satisfied,  or  rather  deceived  their  first 
hunger,  both  horses  evidently  wanted  to  roll,  but  Basia 
could  not  allow  them  to  do  that.  She  did  not  care  to  loosen 
the  girths  and  dismount,  as  she  wanted  to  be  ready  at  any 
moment  to  resume  her  flight. 

However,  she  mounted  Azya's  horse,  because  her  own  had 
carried  her  from  the  last  halting-place,  and  although  he  was 
strong,  and  had  noble  blood  in  his  veins,  yet,  he  was  the 
more  delicate  of  the  two. 

After  this  arrangement,  she  felt  hungry  after  the  thirst 
which  she  had  frequently  quenched  as  she  crossed  the  rivers, 
so  she  began  to  eat  the  seeds  she  had  found  in  the  bag  at 
Azya's  saddle-bow.  She  found  them  very  good,  though  rather 
bitter,  and  eat  and  thanked  God  for  the  unexpected  refresh- 
ment. 


P.LY    MICHAEL. 


347 


She  eat  sparingly,  however,  so  that  they  might  last  her  to 
Khreptyov.  Sleep  soon  began  to  weigh  down  her  eyelids  with 
irresistible  force,  and  when  she  ceased  to  gain  warmth  from 
the  motions  of  the  horse,  she  wae  pierced  with  bitter  cold. 
Her  feet  became  perfectly  stiff,  and  throughout  her  body  she 
experienced  extreme  lassitude,  particularly  in  her  arms  and 
loins,  which  were  strained  in  the  struggle  with  Azya.  She  was 
attacked  by  an  overwhelming  weakness  and  her  eyes  closed. 

However,  in  a  few  moments,  she  made  a  great  effort  and 
opened  them  again. 

"No!"  she  thought,  "I  will  sleep  during  the  day  in  the 
hours  of  travel,  for  if  I  sleep  now,  I  shall  be  frozen."  .  .  . 

But  her  ideas  became  more  confused  and  disordered  and 
produced  a  fantastic  mixture,  in  which  half  dream-like,  half 
clear,  were  jumbled  the  forest,  flight  and  pursuit,  Azya,  the 
little  knight,  Evka,  and  all  late  occurences.  All  these  images 
seemed  to  be  going  like  head  waves  impelled  by  the  wind,  and 
Basia  seemed  to  be  keeping  pace  with  them,  without  either 
fear  or  pleasure,  as  if  she  were  travelling  for  hire.  It  seemed 
as  if  Azya  were  pursuing  her  and  speaking  to  her  at  the  same 
time,  and  in  anxiety  about  his  horse;  Pan  Zagloba  was  scold- 
ing because  supper  was  getting  cold,  Michael  was  showing 
the  way,  and  Evka  was  coming  on  with  them  in  a  sleigh,  eat- 
ing dates. 

Then  all  these  people  became  more  and  more  illusory  as 
though  a  curtain  of  mist  or  gloom  had  been  let  down  in  front 
of  them,  and  gradually  they  faded  away,  and  there  only  re- 
mained a  peculiar  kind  of  darkness,  which  although  impene- 
trable to  the  eye,  was  felt  to  be  entirely  void  and  of  illimitable 
extent.  .  .  This  darkness  pervaded  everything,  even  Basia.' s 
mind,  and  in  it  blotted  out  all  visions  and  ideas,  as  a 
blast  of  wind  extinguishes  a  torch  in  the  open  air  at  night. 

Basia  had  fallen  asleep,  but  luckily  for  her,  before  the 
cold  was  able  to  congeal  the  blood  in  her  veins,  she  was 
roused  by  a  strange  noise.    Suddenly  the  horse  started,  and  it  , 
was  evident  that  there  was  some  unusual  occurence  in  the 
forest. 

Basia  recovered  consciousness  in  an  instant,  she  seized 
Azya's  musket  and  leaning  down  along  the  horse  with  strained 
attention,  and  dilated  nostrils,  she  listened  intently.  Her 
nature  was  such  that  danger  made  her  vigilant  in  a  second, 
and  bold  and  alert  for  defence. 

But  this  time  after  listening  long  enough  she  at  once  be- 


348  7MY 

came  calm.  She  had  been  aroused  by  the  grunt  of  wild 
\Vliet1ier  I  lie  youii£  pigs  were  being  stalked  by  beasts  of 
prey,  or  old  boars  were  preparing  to  light,  she  did  not  know, 
hut  in  a  moment  the  whole  wilderness  was  in  an  uproar.  It 
was  plain  that  the  tumult  was  some  distance  away,  but  in  the 
stillness  of  the  night  and  the  universal  drowsiness,  it  sounded 
so  near,  that  Basia.  not  only  heard  squeals  and  grunts,  but 
violent  breathing  through  the  snouts.  Suddenly,  there  was 
trampling  and  crashing  and  the  snapping  of  broken  boughs, 
and  the  whole  herd  rushed  close  past  Basia,  though  she  could 
not  see,  and  was  lost  in  the  depths  of  the  thickets. 

But  the  irrepressible  Basia,  in  spite  of  her  dreadful  situa- 
tion, immediately  felt  the  hunter-spirit  spring  up  in  her 
heart,  and  she  was  sorry  at  not  having  seen  the  herd  rush 
past. 

"One  ought  to  have  'seen  it,"  she  reflected,  "but  never  mind. 
Eiding  through  the  forest  like  this,  I  shall  be  sure  to  see 
something  yet."  .  .  . 

And  not  till  then  did  she  hurry  forward  again,  recollecting 
that  it  was  better  not  to  be  able  to  see  anything,  but  to  flee 
at  her  utmost  speed. 

It  was  impossible  to  make  any  longer  halt,  because  the  cold 
was  attacking  her  more  sharply,  and  moreover,  the  horse's 
movement  kept  her  comparatively  warm,  while  it  was  not 
very  fatiguing.  But, the  horses,  who  had  only  had  time  to 
nibble  a  little  moss  and  frozen  grass,  flagged  a  good  deal,  and 
their  heads  dropped.  When  they  had  halted,  they  had  be- 
come covered  with  hoar-frost,  and  they  seemed  scarcely  able 
to  drag  their  legs.  Moreover,  they  had  kept  going  ever  since 
the  afternoon  rest  with  scarcely  a  moment  to  breathe.  After 
crossing  the  plain,  keeping  her  eyes  on  the  Great  Wain  in  the 
sky,  Basia  plunged  into  the  forest,  which  was  not  very 
thick,  but  hilly  and  crossed  by  winding  gullies.  Here  too,  it 
was  darker,  but  only  on  account  of  the  shade  of  the  over- 
arching trees,  and  because  the  mist  was  rising  from  the 
ground  and  hiding  the  stars.  She  was  obliged  to  take  her 
chance.  She  only  knew  that  she  was  going  in  the  right  direc- 
tion by  the  course  of  the  gullies,  for  she  knew  that  they  all 
ran  westwards  towards  the  Dniester,  and  by  continually  cross- 
ing fresh  ones,  she  must  be  going  northwards.  But  notwith- 
standing this  help,  she  thought:  "I  am  constantly  in  danger 
of  getting  too  close  to  the  Dniester,  or  too  far  away  from  it. 
It  is  dangerous  to  do  either.  In  the  first  place,  I  should  be 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


349 


taking  a  tremendous  journey,  and  in  the  second,  I  might  find 
myself  at  Yampol  and  fall  into  the  hands  of  my  enemy. 

She  had  not  the  slightest  idea  whether  she  had  yet  arrived 
opposite  Yampol,  or  was  on  the  high  ground  above  it,  or  had 
already  passed  it. 

"It  will  be  easy  to  tell  when  I  pass  Mohilov,"  she  mur- 
mured, "because  it  lies  in  a  deep  hollow  which  is  very  ex- 
tensive, and  so  I  am  likely  to  recognize  it.' 

Then  she  gazed  at  the  Heavens,  and  thought: 

"God  only  grant  that  I  may  reach  the  other  side  of  Mohilov, 
for  that  is  the  beginning  of  Michael's  authority,  and  I  shall 
not  be  afraid  of  anything  there.7'  .  .  . 

The  night  now  grew  darker.  Luckily  the  forest  was  car- 
peted with  snow,  and  she  could  distinguish  the  dark  trunks 
of  the  trees  against  the  white  ground,  and  see  the  lower 
branches  and  avoid  them.  But  Basia  was  forced  to  ride  more 
slowly  and  consequently  her  heart  was  again  seized  with  the 
dread  of  the  unclean  powers:  which,  early  in  the  night,  had 
seemed  to  turn  her  blood  into  ice. 

"If  I  see  fiery  eyes  near  the  ground,"  she  said  to  her  terri- 
fied soul,  "that  isn't  anything;  it  will  be  a  wolf,  but  if  it  is  at 
the  height  of  a  man, "  , 

At  that  moment  she  cried  out: 

"In  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son " 

Could  it  have  been  a  wild-cat  sitting  on  a  branch?  It  is 
enough  that  Basia  plainly  distinguished  a  pair  of  flashing 
eyes  at  the  height  of  a  man's  head. 

A  cloud  came  over  her  eyes  in  her  terror,  but  as  she  looked 
again,  she  could  neither  see  nor  hear  anything  but  the  rustle 
among  the  boughs,  though  her  heart  beat  so  loudly  that  it 
seemed  about  to  break  out  of  her  breast. 

And  she  rode  on  hour  after  hour  sighing  for  the  dawn,  but 
the  night  seemed  interminable.  Presently  her  path  was  again 
barred  by  a  river.  Basia  was  already  considerably  beyond 
Yampol,  on  the  bank  of  the  Rosava;  but  not  knowing  where 
she  was,  she  merely  thought  that  if  she  continued,  advancing 
northwards,  she  would  soon  come  across  a  fresh  river.  She 
also  thought  that  the  night  must  be  nearly  passed,  because 
it  was  sensibly  getting  colder,  and  the  fog  began  to  be  dissi- 
pated, and  the  stars  to  appear,  although  shining  with  an  un- 
certain light. 

Finally  the  gloom  began  gradually  to  lighten.  The  tree- 
inmks,  branches  and  twigs  were  becoming  visible.  The  for- 
est was  wrapped  in  profound  silence,  and  dawn  had  arrived. 


350 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


Presently  Basia  was  able  to  distinguish  the  color  of  the 
horses.  At  last,  through  the  branches  of  the  trees  in  the  east 
a  bright  streak  appeared.  Day  had  broken;  a  bright  day. 

Basia's  weariness  knew  no  bounds.  Her  mouth  constantly 
gaped  with  yawning,  and  very  soon  her  eyes  closed;  she  did 
not  sleep  for  long,  oecause  her  head  came  in  contact  with  a 
branch  and  this  awoke  her.  Fortunately,  the  horses  were 
moving  very  slowly,  cropping  the  moss  as  they  went,  and  so 
it  was  such  a  slight  blow  that  it  did  not  hurt  her.  The  sun 
had  now  risen,  and  its  pale,  beautiful  rays  were  shining 
through  the  bare  branches.  When  she  saw  this,  Basia's  heart 
felt  comforted.  Between  her  and  pursuit  she  had  placed  so 
many  steppes,  mountains,  and  ravines;  and  an  entire  night. 
"If  I  am  not  captured  by  men  from  Yampol,  or  Mohilov," 
she  murmured,  "the  others  will  not  come  up  with  me." 
Moreover,  there  was  another  circumstance  on  which  she 
counted,  and  that  was  that  when  she  had  first  taken  flight  she 
had  gone  over  rocky  ground  where  hoofs  leave  no  tracks. 
But  again  doubts  began  to  assail  her.  The  Lipkovs  can  find 
tracks  even  on  stone,  and  will  doggedly  keep  up  the  pursuit 
till  their  horses  fall  dead. 

This  last  seemed  a  most  likely  supposition.  It  was  enough 
for  Basia  to  look  at  her  own  animals;  their  flanks  had  fallen 
in,  their  heads  were  drooping,  and  their  eyes  were  glazed. . 
As  they  moved  on,  they  stretched  their  necks  to  the  ground 
again  and  again,  to  crop  the  moss  as  they  passed,  to  snatch 
at  the  red  leaves  which  hung  withered  here  and  there  on  the 
low  oak  shrubs.  Fever  also  must  be  attacking  Basia,  because 
at  every  ford,  she  drank  thirstily. 

Nevertheless,  when  she  emerged  into  an  open  plain  be- 
tween two  forests  she  urged  the  tired  horses  into  a  gallop  and 
kept  it  up  till  they  reached  the  next  forest. 

After  passing  through  that  she  came  to  another  plain  still 
more  extensive  and  hilly;  beyond  some  hills  a  mile  or  so 
away  smoke  was  rising  towards  the  sky  as  straight  as  a  pine- 
tree.  This  was  the  first  inhabited  place  that  Basia  had  come 
across  as  yet,  for  that  region,  with  the  exception  of  the  bank 
of  the  river  was  a  desert,  or  rather  it  had  been  turned  into  a 
desert  not  only  by  Tartar  incursions,  but  by  the  perpetual 
Polish-Cossack  wars.  Since  the  last  campaign  of  Pan  Char- 
nyetski,  before  whom  Busha  fell,  the  small  towns  had  become 
shabby  settlements  and  the  villages  were  overgrown  with 
young  forests.  And  since  Charnyetski,  there  had  been  in- 


MICHAEL.  251 

numerable  expeditions,  battles,  and  massacres,  down  to  the 
last  in  which  the  great  Sobieski  had  wrested  that  region  from 
the  foe.  Signs  of  habitation  were  beginning  to  multiply,  only 
the  district  through  which  Basia  was  fleeing  was  particularly 
deserted  and  only  robbers  had  taken  refuge  there,  though 
even  these  had  been  almost  exterminated  by  the  commands 
stationed  at  Itashkov>  Yampol,  and  Khreptyov. 

On  seeing  the  smoke,  Basia' s  first  impulse  was  to  ride  to- 
wards it  to  find  a  house,  or  a  hut  even,  or  at  least,  a  hearth 
to  warm  herself  by,  and  revive.  But  she  quickly  reflected  that 
in  those  parts  it  was  safer  to  encounter  a  pack  of  wolves  than 
man:  man  there  was  more  savage  and  pitiless  than  the  wild 
beasts.  Nay,  rather  was  it  necessary  for  her  to  hasten  her 
horses  and  pass  that  forest  abode  of  man  as  quickly  as  pos- 
sible, for  there  only  death  could  await  her. 

On  the  very  edge  of  the  forest  opposite,  Basia  saw  a  small 
stack  of  hay;  so  at  all  costs  she  halted  at  it  to  bait  her  horses. 
They  ate  ravenously,  thrusting  their  heads  into  the  hay  up  to 
the  ears  and  dragging  out  big  bunches  of  it.  Unfortunately 
they  were  greatly  hindered  by  their  bits;  but  Basia  did  not 
want  to  unbridle  them,  properly  reasoning  as  follows: 

"Where  there  is  smoke  there  must  be  a  shanty,  as  there  is 
a  stack  there  must  be  horses  on  which  they  could  follow  me, — 
so  I  must  be  prepared." 

However,  she  stayed  about  an  hour  at  the  stack  so  that  the 
horses  had  a  considerable  feed,  and  she  ate  some  seeds  herself. 
Then  she  moved  on  and  after  a  few  furlongs  she  suddenly  saw 
in  front  of  her  two  persons  with  faggots  on  their  backs. 

One  was  a  middle-aged  man  with  a  face  pitted  with  small- 
pox and  cross-eyes,  hideous  and  repellant,  with  a  cruel,  bestial 
face;  the  other  was  an  idiot  youth  as  was  instantly  apparent 
from  his  silly  smile  and  foolish  glance. 

At  the  sight  of  an  armed  cavalier  they  both  cast  down  their 
faggots  and  seemed  to  be  greatly  alarmed.  But  the  encounter 
was  so  sudden  and  close  that  they  could  not  run  away. 

"Praise  God!"  said  Basia. 

"For  ever  and  ever." 

"What  is  the  name  of  this  farm?" 

"What  should  it  be?    There's  the  hut." 

"Is  it  far  to  Mohilov?" 

"We  do  not  know." 

Here  the  man  began  closely  to  scrutinize  Basia's  features. 
On  account  of  her  male  costume  he  took  her  for  a  youth,  and 


352  .  ?M.V    MK'HM-IL 

his  face  instantly  assumed  an  expression  of  insolence  and 
cruelty  in  place  of  his  late  alarm. 

"How  is  it  that  you  are  so  young,  Pan  Cavalier?" 

"What  business  is  that  of  yours?" 

"And  are  you  travelling  alone?"  the  peasant  inquired,  ad- 
vancing a  step. 

"Troops  accompany  me." 

He  paused  and  looked  over  the  extensive  plain  and  replied: 

"Untrue.    There's  nobody." 

Then  he  took  two  steps  forward;  his  cross  eyes  glittered 
with  a  sinister  light  and  he  pursed  his  lips  and  began  to 
imitate  the  cry  of  a  quail,  evidently  as  a  summons  to  some- 
body. 

All  this  looked  very  hostile  to  Basia  and  she  unhesitatingly 
levelled  a  pistol  at  his  heart: 

"Silence !  or  thou  shalt  perish." 

The  man  ceased  and  moreover  cast  himself  on  the  ground. 
The  idiot  followed  his  example  and  began  to  howl  like  a  wolf 
with  terror;  perhaps  he  had  originally  lost  his  reason  from  a 
similar  feeling  for  his  howls  spoke  most  awful  terror. 

Basia  pulled  up  her  horses  arid  sprang  forward  like  an 
arrow.  Luckily  there  was  no  underwood  in  that  forest  and 
the  trees  were  wide  apart.  They  soon  came  to  another  plain 
that  was  narrow  but  very  long.  The  horses  had  gained  new 
strength  from  their  meal  at  the  stack  and  rushed  on  like  the 
tempest. 

"They  will  run  home,  mount,  and  chase  me!"  thought 
Basia. 

Her  only  comfort  was  that  the  horses  were  going  well  and 
that  the  spot  where  she  had  met  the  man  was  a  good  way 
from  the  house. 

"Before  they  can  reach  it  and  get  the  horses  out  at  this 
rate  I  shall  be  several  miles  ahead." 

This  was  the  case,  but  after  some  hours,  when  she  was  satis- 
fied that  she  was  not  being  followed,  Basia  slackened  her 
pace,  her  heart  was  assailed  with  great  fear  and  depression 
and  she  could  not  restrain  her  tears. 

The  encounter  taught  her  what  the  people  of  those  parts 
were  and  what  was  to  be  expected  from  them.  It  is  true  that 
this  was  no  surprise.  From  her  own  experience  and  the  tales 
she  had  heard  at  Khreptyov  she  knew  that  the  former  peace- 
ful dwellers  had  left  these  wilds,  or  had  been  swallowed  up  in 
the  war;  those  who  were  left  lived  in  perpetual  dread  amidst 


PAX    MTriJAEL.  353 

civil  strife  and  Tartar  assault,  under  conditions  where  one 
man  to  another  is  like  a  wolf;  they  were  living  without 
churches  or  religion,  without  any  principle  but  fire  and 
slaughter,  without  recognizing  any  right  but  that  of  the  fist; 
they  had  lost  all  feelings  of  humanity  and  grown  wild  like 
the  beasts  of  the  field.  Basia  was  well  aware  of  -this;  and  yet 
a  human  being,  lost  in  the  wilderness,  famished  with  hunger 
and  cold  involuntarily  turns  for  assistance  to  kindred  beings 
first  of  all.  Basia  did  so  at  the  sight  of  'the  smoke  that  re- 
vealed a  human  habitation;  following  the  first  natural  impulse 
of  her  heart  she  wanted  to  hasten  to  it,  greet  the  tenants  in 
the  name  of  God,  and  rest  her  wearied  head  beneath  their 
roof.  But  grim  reality  quickly  bared  its  teeth  at  her  like  a 
savage  dog.  So  her  heart  was  full  of  bitterness  and  her  eyes 
of  sorrow  and  disappointment. 

"No  help  but  from  God/'  she  thought.  "I  pray  that  no 
person  meet  me  again." 

Then  she  began  to  wonder  why  the  peasant  had  imitated  a 
quail.  "There  must  certainly  be  others  there  and  he  wanted 
to  call  them."  She  remembered  that  robbers  dwelt  in  that 
_  district,  having  been  driven  out  of  the  fastnesses  near  the 
river  and  taking  to  the  wilds  deeper  in  the  country  where  the 
neighborhood  of  the  wide  steppes  insured  greater  safety  and 
easier  escape  at  need. 

"But  what  will  happen?"  Basia  asked  herself,  if  I  encounter 
a  number  of  men,  or  more  than  a  dozen?  The  musket, — 
that's  one;  two  pistols, — two;  a  sabre, — say  two  more;  but  if 
if  there  are  more  than  that  I  shall  die  a  horrible  death." 

And  as  during  the  terrors  of  the  previous  night  she  had 
longed  for  day  to  come  as  quickly  as  possible,  so  now  she 
longed  for  darkness  to  hide  her  more  effectually  from  evil 
eyes. 

Twice  again  as  she  rode  on  ceaselessly  she  seemed  to  be  in 
the  vicinity  of  people.  Once  she  caught  sight  of  a  number  of 
huts  on  the  edge  of  the  plateau.  Perhaps  professional  robbers 
did  not  dwell  there.,  but  she  preferred  to  pass  by  at  a  gallop, 
knowing  that  even  peasants  are  not  much  better  than  robbers; 
on  another  occasion  she  heard  the  sound  of  axes  cutting 
wood. 

The  longed-for  night  at  last  shrouded  the  earth.  Basia  was 
so  worn  out  that  when  she  came  to  a  bare  steppe  free  from 
woods  she  said  to  herself: 

;'I  shan't  be  crushed  against  a  tree  here.    I  will  get  some 
sleep  at  once,  even  if  1 
S3 


354 

As  .she  closed  her  eyes  she  fancied  iluil  in  the  distance  on 
the  white  snow  she  saw  a  number  of  black  dots  moving  about 
in  various  directions.  For  a  little  longer  .she  mastered  her 
drowsiness.  "Surely  those  must  be  wolves!"  she  murmured. 

Before  she  had  gone  many  paces  the  dots  disappeared  and 
then  she  fell  asleep  so  soundly  that  she  did  not  awake  till 
Azya's  horse,  on  which  she  was  mounted,  neighed  under  her. 

She  gazed  around;  s'he  was  on  the  edge  of  a  forest;  if  she 
had  not  woke  in  time  she  might  have  been  crushed  against 
a  tree. 

Suddenly  she  noticed  that  the  other  horse  was  not  by  her 
side. 

"What  has  happened?"  she  cried  in  great  alarm. 

What  had  happened  was  very  simple.  It  is  true  that  Basia 
had  tied  the  reins  of  her  pony  to  the  pommel  of  the  saddle 
on  which  -she  was  sitting;  but  her  numbed  hands  had  not 
served  her  well  and  she  had  not  been  able  to  tie  them  firmly; 
they  had  slipped  off  and  the  tired  horse  had  stopped  to  st-ek 
food  beneath  the  snow,  or  to  lie  down. 

Fortunately  Basia's  pistol  was  in  her  girdle  instead  of  her 
holster,  she  had  also  with  her  the  powder-horn  and  the  bag 
with  the  rest  of  the  seeds.  And  lastly  the  calamity  was  not 
overwhelming  because  though  Azya's  horse  was  not  so  speedy 
as  her  own,  yet  he  was  undoubtedly  superior  in  the  matter 
of  enduring  cold  and  labor.  But  Basia  was  grieved  about  her 
favorite  horse  and  her  first  impulse  was  to  search  for  him. 

When  she  looked  around  the  steppe,  however,  and  could 
see  nothing  of  him,  though  the  night  was  unusually  bright, 
she  was  greatly  surprised. 

He  has  surely  stayed  behind,"  she  thought,,  "and  not  gone 
ahead;  but  he  must  have  lain  down  in  some  hollow  and  that 
is  the  reason  that  I  cannot  see  him." 

Her  horse  neighed  again,  shaking  himself,  and  laying  his 
ears  back;  but  no  answer  came  from  the  silent  steppe. 

"I  will  go  and  find  him,"  said  Basia. 

But  as  she  turned  she  was  seized  with  sudden  alarm,  and 
it  sounded  as  if  a  human  voice  exclaimed: 

"Basia,  do  not  return  !" 

At  that  instant  the  silence  was  broken  by  other  and  ill- 
omened  voices  close  by  and  seeming  to  come  from  beneath  the 
earth,  howling,  snorting,  whining  and  groaning,  and  at  last 
a  horrible  squeal,  short  and  interrupted.  .  .  .  Tt  was  all 
the  more  terrifying  because  nothing  was  visible  on  the  steppe. 


PAN    MICHAEL.  355 

Basia  broke  out  into  cold  sweat  from  head  to  foot,  and  from 
her  pale  lips  escaped  the  cry: 

"What  is  that  ?    What  has  happened  ?" 

Of  course  she  guessed  at  once  that  wolves  had  killed  her 
horse,  but  she  could  not  understand  why  she  did  not  see  him 
since,  to  judge  by  the  sounds,  he  was  only  five  hundred  yards 
behind. 

There  was  no  'time  to  spring  to  his  rescue,  for  the  horse 
must  be  already  torn  to  pieces,  and  besides  she  had  to  think 
of  her  own  safety.  Basia  fired  her  pistol  to  scare  the  wolves 
and  went  on. 

As  she  went  she  meditated  on  what  had  happened,  and 
presently  the  thought  struck  her  that  perhaps  it  was  not  the 
wolves  who  had  taken  her  horse,  because  those  voices  seemed 
to  come  from  beneath  the  earth.  At  this  thought  a  cold 
shiver  ran  down  her  back,  but  weighing  the  affair  more  care- 
fully she  remembered  that  while  asleep  she  had  seemed  to  be 
descending  and  then  rising  again. 

"That  must  be  it,"  she  exclaimed,  "in  my  sleep  I  must  have 
crossed  some  not  very  precipitous  ravine.  My  horse  stayed 
there  and  there  the  wolves  fell  upon  him." 

The  rest  of  the  night  passed  without  further  adventure. 
Having  had  the  hay  to  eat  in  the  morning  the  horse  kept  on 
with  wonderful  endurance  till  Basia  herself  was  amazed  at 
his  power.  He  was  a  Tartar  horse, — a  wolf-hunter  of  noble 
blood  and  quite  unlimited  endurance.  During  the  brief  halts 
that  Basia  allowed  him  he  nibbled  everything,  moss  and  leaves 
without  distinction,  and  even  gnawed  the  bark  of  trees  and 
then  went  on  and  on.  Basia  pressed  him  into  a  gallop  on 
the  plains.  After  a  time  he  began  to  groan  occasionally  and 
his  labored  breathing  could  be  plainly  heard  when  he  was 
reined  in;  he  panted  and  trembled  and  hung  his  head  low 
with  weariness,  but  he  did  not  fall.  Even  if  her  own.  horse 
had  not  died  under  the  teeth  of  the  wolves  he  could  not  have 
stood  such  a  journey. 

After  saying  her  prayers  the  next  morning  Basia  began  to 
count  the  time. 

"I  broke  away  from  Azya  on  Tuesday  afternoon,"  she  re- 
flected. "I  galloped  till  night;  then  the  night  was  spent  on 
the  road  and  then  a  whole  day,  then  another  whole  night,  and 
this  is  the  commencement  of  the  third  day.  Even  if  there  was 
a  pursuit  it  must  already  have  turned  back  and  Khreptyov 
should  be  near,  for  I  have  not  spared  the  horses." 

Presently  she  added: 


356 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


"It  is  time;  it  is  time!  God  have  merc'y  upon  me!" 

Now  and  then  she  felt  a  desire  to  approach  'the  Dniester, 
for  on  the  bank  it  would  be  easier  to  tell  where  she  was,  but 
when  she  remembered  that  fifty  of  Azya's  Lipkovs  had  re- 
mained at  Mohilov  with  Pan  Gorzenski,  she  feared  to  do  so. 
She  thought  that  as  she  had  made  such  a  detour  perhaps  she 
had  not  yet  passed  Mohilov.  On  the  way  so  long  as  sleep  had 
not  weighed  down  her  eyelids  it  is  true  that  she  had  tried  care- 
fully to  notice  if  she  came  across  a  very  broad  valley  like  the 
one  in  which  Mohilov  was  situated,  but  she  had  not  seen 
such  a  place.  However,  the  valley  might  grow  narrower  and 
quite  different  to  what  it  was  at  Mohiloy  and  might  come  to 
an  end  farther  in,  or  considerably  narrowed  at  some  furlongs 
beyond  the  town;  in  short,  Basia  had  not  the  slightest  idea 
where  she  was. 

Only  she  ceaselessly  prayed  to  God  that  Khreptyov  might 
not  be  far  away,  for  she  felt  that  she  could  not  much  longer 
endure  toil,  hunger,  cold,  and  loss  of  sleep.  For  three  days 
she  had  lived  on  seeds  alone,  and  though  she  had  husbanded 
them  most  carefully,  yet  she  had  eaten  the  last  grain  that 
morning  and  there  was  nothing  left  in  the  bag. 

Now  she  could  only  feed  and  warm  herself  with  the  hope 
that  Khreptyov  was  near.  Besides  hope,  fever  was  keeping 
her  warm.  Basia  was  sure  that  she  had  a  fever  because, 
although  the  air  was  becoming  colder  and  was  even  freezing, 
her  feet  and  hands  were  now  as  hot  as  she  had  been  cold  at 
the  commencement  of  her  flight;  she  was  also  greatly  tor- 
mented with  thirst. 

"Only  let  me  not  lose  my  presence  of  mind,"  she  said  to 
herself;  "let  me  reach  Khreptyov  even  with  my  last  breath 
and  see  Michael,  and  then  God's  will  be  done."  .  .  . 

She  was  again  forced  to  cross  several  streams  and  rivers, 
but  they  were  either  shallow  or  frozen;  on  some  waters  was 
flowing  above  the  surface  of  firm  and  strong  ice.  These  she 
dreaded  more  than  any  because,  though  the  horse  was  brave, 
he  evidently  feared  them.  When  he  went  into  the  water  or 
upon  the  ice  he  would  snort  and  prick  his  ears  forward  and 
sometimes  balk,  and  when  urged  he  moved  warily,  slowly 
putting  one  foot  before  the  other  and  snorting  with  wide  nos- 
trils. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  Basia  issued  from  a  dense 
pine  wood  and  halted  before  a  river  considerably  larger  and 
wider  than  usual.  According  to  her  reckoning  this  must  be 


PAN    MICHAEL.  357 

the  Lodova  or  the  Kalusik.  Her  heart  beat  joyfully  at  the 
sight  of  it.  In  either  case  Khreptyov  must  be  near;  once 
having  passed  it  she  might  consider  herself  safe,  because  that 
district  was  more  populated  and  the  people  less  to  be  dreaded. 
The  banks  of  the  river  were  precipitous  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
see;  it  shelved  only  in  one  place  where  the  water,  damned  up 
by  the  ice,  had  flooded  the  bank,  looking  like  water  in  a  broad, 
shallow  vessel.  The  margin  was  quite  frozen,  but  a  wide 
stream  of  water  was  flowing  in  the  centre,  though  Basia  hoped 
to  find  the  usual  ice  beneath  it. 

The  horse  entered  with  some  unwillingness  as  at  other 
crossings,  with  lowered  head  and  snuffing  at  the  snow  in  front 
of  him.  When  she  reached  the  running  water  Basia  knelt  on 
the  saddle  as  usual,  and  held  on  to  the  pommel  with  both 
hands. 

The  water  splashed  under  his  hoofs.  The  ice  was  quite 
flrm  and  like  stone  under  him.  But  evidently  the  shoes  had 
lost  their  sharpness  on  the  long  road  parts  of  which  had  been 
rocky,  as  the  horse  began  to  slip  and  his  feet  to  spread  as  if 
flying  from  under  him.  Suddenly  he  stumbled  and  his  nos- 
trils entered  the  water;  then  he  rose  and  fell  on  his  haunches; 
he  rose  again,  but  was  now  frightened  and  began  to  kick  and 
plunge.  Basia  pulled  at  the  reins  and  at  the  same  moment  a 
dull  crack  was  heard  and  the  horse's  hind  legs  sank  through 
the  ice  up  to  his  haunches. 

"Jesus,  Jesus!"  cried  Basia. 

The  animal  with  his  fore  legs  still  on  firm  ice  was  making 
desperate  efforts,  but  evidently  the  fragment  on  which  he 
was  resting  began  to  move  from  under  his  feet,  for  he  sank 
deeper  and  began  to  emit  hoarse  sounds. 

Basia  still  had  the  time  and  presence  of  mind  to  grasp  his 
mane  and  gain  the  solid  ice  in  front  of  him.  She  fell,  and 
was  soaked  by  the  water,  but  gained  and  felt  it  firm  under 
her  feet  and  knew  that  she  was  saved.  She  wanted  to  save 
the  horse,  so  leaned  forward  and  caught  the  reins  and  pulled 
with  all  her  power  towards  the  bank. 

But  the  horse  sank  deeper  and  could  not  even  free  his  fore 
feet  to  reach  the  stationary  ice.  The  more  she  dragged  at 
the  reins  the  deeper  he  sank.  He  began  to  utter  sounds  that 
were  almost  human  while  baring  his  teeth;  he  gazed  at  Basia 
with  indescribable  sadness  in  his  eyes  as  if  trying  to  say  io 
her:  "There  is  no  rescue  for  me;  drop  the  reins  before  I  drag 
thee  in  too!" 


35g  PAN    MICHAEL. 

In  truth  there  was  no  rescue  for  him,  and  at  last  Basia  had 
to  let  go  the  reins. 

At  last  he  was  so  deep  in  the  water  that  only  his  neck  and 
mouth  remained  above  the  ice. 

When  the  horse  had  disappeared  beneath  the  ice  she  went 
to  the  bank  and  sat  down  under  a  leafless  bush  and  iobbed 
like  a  child. 

For  the  moment  her  spirit  was  entirely  broken.  Moreover 
the  pain  and  bitterness  she  had  experienced  after  meeting  with 
people  now  filled  her  heart  with  still  greater  intensity.  Every- 
thing was  against  her; — unknown  roads,  darkness,  the  ele- 
ments, men,  and  beasts.  The  hand  of  God  alone  had  seemed 
to  protect  her.  In  that  loving  paternal  care  she  had  put  all 
her  childlike  trust;  but  now  even  that  had  failed  her.  Basia 
had  not  expressed  this  feeling  in  such  plain  words,  but  never- 
theless in  her  heart  she  felt  it  strongly. 

"What  was  left  for  her?"  Tears  and  complaint!  And  yet 
she  had  exhibited  all  the  valor,  and  courage,  and  fortitude 
that  it  was  possible  for  such  a  poor  weak  creature  to  show. 
Now  behold,  her  horse,  her  last  hope  of  salvation,  her  last 
chance  of  rescue,  the  sole  living  creature  with  her,  wa.s 
drowned!  Deprived  of  that  horse  she  felt  helpless  in  face  of 
the  unknown  distance  between  her  and  Khreptyov;  and  in 
face  of  the  pine  woods,  ravines,  and  steppes;  not  merely  with- 
out defence  against  the  pursuit  of  man,  but  more  lonely  and 
deserted  than  ever. 

She  wept  till  her  tears  were  exhausted.  Then  followed  ex- 
haustion, weariness,  and  such  an  utter  sense  of  helplessness 
that  it  was  almost  akin  to  rest. 

She  sighed  deeply  once  and  again  and  cried: 

"I  am  powerless  against  the  will  of  God.  I  will  die  where 
I  am!" 

And  she  closed  those  eyes  that  were  once  so  bright  and  joj- 
ous,  but  now  so  hollow  and  sunken. 

Although  she  was  growing  more  physically  helpless  every 
moment,  yet  thought  throbbed  in  her  brain  like  a  frightened 
bird,  and  her  heart  also.  If  nobody  in  the  world  loved  her  she 
could  die  with  less  regret,  but  everybody  loved  her  so  much. 

And  she  pictured  to  herself  what  would  happen  when 
Azya's  treachery  and  treason  were  known;  how  they  would 
search  for  her  and  at  last  find  her,  blue,  frozen,  and  sleeping 
her  eternal  sleep  under  a  bush  by  the  river.  Suddenly  she 
cried  out: 


MICHAEL.  *~g 

"Ah,  \yhat  will  be  poor  Michael's  despair!  Ah!  ah!" 

Then  she  prayed  to  him,  saying  that  it  was  not  her  fault. 

"Michael,  dear,"  she  said,  as  she  put  her  arms  around  his 
neck  in  fancy,  "I  did  everything  in  my  power,  but  it  was 
hard,  dear.  It  was  not  the  will  of  the  Lord  God." 

And  at  that  moment  she  felt  such  an  overwhelming  rush 
of  love  for  Michael  and  such  a  desire  even  to  die  near  her  be- 
loved that  she  summoned  the  last  of  her  forces  and  rose  from 
the  bank  and  struggled  onwards. 

It  was  extremely  difficult  at  first.  During  the  long  ride  hei- 
feet  had  become  unused  to  walking  and  she  felt  as  if  she  were 
walking  on,  stilts.  Fortunately  she  was  not  cold;  indeed  she 
was  quite  warm  enough,  as  the  fever  had  never  left  for  a 
moment.  . 

Plunging  into  the  forest  she  kept  on  resolutely  remember- 
ing to  keep  the  sun  on  her  left.  In  fact  it  had  now  gone 
round  to  the  Moldavian  side,  for  it  was  afternoon, — perhaps 
four  o'clock.  Basia  now  did  not  so  much  mind  approaching 
the  Dniester,  for  she  was  satisfied  that  she  was  beyond 
Mohilov. 

"If  I  were  only  certain  of  it;  if  I  knew  it!"  she  exclaimed, 
raising  her  bine  and  inflamed  face  towards  the  sky.  "If  only 
some  animal  or  tree  would  speak  and  say,  It  is  a  mile  to 
Khreptyov,  or  two  miles,'  I  might  perhaps  reach  there." 

But  the  trees  were  silent;  indeed  they  seemed  hostile  and 
to  be  obstructing  the  road  with  their  roots.  Basia  frequently 
stumbled  against  these  gnarled,  knotted  and  snow-covered 
roots.  Presently  she  felt  unendurably  burdened,  so  she  cast 
the  warm  mantle  from  her  shoulders  and  was  left  with  her 
single  jacket.  Thus  relieved  she  walked  on  and  on  with  in- 
creasing haste,  sometimes  stumbling  and  falling  in  the  deep 
snow.  Her  fur-lined,  saffian  boots,  excellent  for  the  sleigh  or 
horseback,  were  very  little  protection  to  her  feet  against  the 
stonea  or  stumps,  and  having  been  repeatedly  soaked  in  ford- 
ing and  kept  damp  by  the  feverish  heat  of  her  feet,  they  easily 
got  torn  in  the  forest. 

"I  will  go  barefoot  to  Khreptyov,  or  to  death!"  Basia 
thought. 

And  a  sad  smile  illumined  her  tiny  face,  for  it  was  some 
solace  to  her  to  keep  on  with  such  endurance  so  that  if  she 
should  be  frozen  on  the  way  Michael  would  have  nothing  to 
reproach  her  memory  with.  So  now  she  kept  continually 
talking  to  her  husband  and  once  she  said: 


360  ?AN   MICHAEL. 

"Ah,  Michael,  dear!  another  would  not  have  done  so  much: 
Evka,  for  example."  .  .  . 

More  than  once  she  had  thought  of  Eva  during  her  flight, 
and  more  than  once  she  had  prayed  for  her.  It  was  clear  to 
her  now,  knowing  'that  Azya  did  not  love  the  maiden,  her  fate, 
in  common  with  all  the  other  prisoners  in  Rashkov,  would  be 
a  dreadful  one. 

"It  is  worse  for  them  than  for  me,"  she  kept  telling  herself, 
and  the  thought  gave  her  fresh  courage. 

But  when  three  hours  had  passed  her  strength  began  to 
fail  more  with  every  step.  The  sun  gradually  sank  behind  the 
Dniester  and  disappeared  in  a  rosy  glow,  leaving  violet  reflec- 
tions on  the  snow.  Then  the  twilight  abyss  of  gold  and  purple 
began  to  darken  and  contract  momentarily;  from  a  sea  that 
covered  half  the  heavens  it  narrowed  to  a  lake,  from  a  lake  to 
a  river,  from  a  river  to  a  brook,  and  at  last  gleaming  like  a 
thread  of  light  across  the  west  it  gave  place  to  darkness. 

Night  fell.     . 

Another  hour  passed.  The  pine  wood  became  black  and 
mysterious;  but,  not  stirred  by  the  least  'breath,  it  seemed  to 
be  pondering  what  it  should  do  with  that  poor,  strayed  creat- 
ure. There  was  nothing  good  in  that  stillness  and  torpor,  but 
rather  heartlessness  and  insensibility. 

Basia  kept  on  without  ceasing,  panting  through  her  parched 
lips  more  rapidly  as  she  went;  she  also  fell  more  often  now 
that  darkness  had  come,  and  she  was  weaker. 

She  kept  her  face  'turned  upwards,  but  not  'to  look  for  the 
Great  Wain,  for  she  had  lost  all  idea  of  her  position.  She 
gazed  where  she  wanted  to  go; — because  bright  and  sweet 
visions  of  death  were  beginning  to  hover  about  her. 

For  example,  the  four  sides  of  the  wood  seemed  to  approach 
one  another  quickly  and  form  a  room, — 'the  room  at  Khrept- 
yov.  Basia  is  there  and  sees  everything  clearly.  A  great  fire 
is  burning  on  the  hearth  and  officers  are  sitting  on  the 
benches  as  usual:  Pan  Zagloba  is  jesting  with  Pan  Snitko; 
Pan  Motovidlo  is  silently  gazing  into  the  flames,  and  when 
anything  hisses  in  the  fire  he  exclaims  in  his  drawling  tones, 
"Oh,  soul  in  purgatory,  what  wilt  thou?"  Pan  Mushalski  and 
Pan  Khromyka  are  casting  dice  with  Michael.  Basia  ap- 
proaches them  and  says:  "Michael  dear,  I  will  sit  on  the  bench 
and  nestle  up  beside  you  a  little,  for  I  am  not  myself."  Michael 
passes  his  arm  around  her.  "What  is  the  matter,  kitten?  Is 
it?  .  And  he  bends  his  head  down  to  her  ear  and 


PAN    MICHAEL.  36 r 

whispers  something.  But  she  answers,  "Ah,  how  unlike  my- 
self I  feel!"  What  a  bright  and  peaceful  room  that  is  and 
how  dear  that  Michael  is!  But  somehow  Basia  is  not  herself 
at  all  and  fear  takes  hold  of  her. 

Basia  is  so  far  from  being  herself  that  the  fever  has  sud- 
denly left  her,  for  the  weakness  that  comes  before  death  has 
vanquished  it.  The  visions  vanish;  presence  of  mind  returns 
and  memory  with  it. 

"I  am  fleeing  from  Azya,"  said  Basia  to  herself;  "I  am  in 
the  forest  at  night.  I  cannot  reach  Khreptyov.  I  am  dying." 

After  the  fever  has  departed  cold  quickly  seizes  upon  her 
and  pierces  her  body  to  the  bone.  Her  legs  bend  under  her, 
and  at  last  she  kneels  in  the  snow  before  a  tree. 

Her  mind  is  not  obscured  by  the  least  cloud  now.  She  is 
bitterly  grieved  at  losing  her  life,  but  she  is  perfectly  well 
aware  that  she  is  dying,  and,  -to  commend  her  soul  to  God, 
she  is  beginning  to  say  in  broken  tones: 

"In  the  name  of  the  Fa.ther,  and  the  Son, " 

Further  prayer  is  suddenly  interrupted  by  certain  strange, 
sharp,  shrill,  squeaking  sounds;  they  are  grating  and  piercing 
in  the  silence  of  the  night. 

Basia  opens  her  mouth.  The  question,  "What  is  that?"  dies 
on  her  lips.  For  an  instant  she  covers  her  face  with  her 
trembling  hands  as  if  unwilling  to  believe  her  ears,  and  a  sud- 
den shriek  escapes  her  lips: 

"0  Jesus,  0  Jesus!  Those  are  the  well-sweeps;  that  is 
Khreptyov!  0  Jesus! 

Then  this  creature  who  was  dying  a  moment  ago  now 
springs  up  panting  and  trembling,  with  eyes  full  of  tears  and 
with  heaving  bosom  runs  through  the  forest,  falling,  and  ris- 
ing again  as  she  repeats: 

"They  are  watering  the  horses  there!  That  is  Khreptyov! 
Those  are  our  well-sweeps!  To  the  gate,  to  the  gate!  0 
Jesus!  Khreptyov.  .  .  Khreptyov!"  .  .  . 

But  here  the  trees  grow  wider  apart,  the  fields  of  snow  open 
to  the  view  and  the  slope  with  them,  from  which  many  gleam- 
ing eyes  are  gazing  at  the  running  Basia. 

But  these  were  not  the  eyes  of  wolves;  they  were  the  win- 
dows of  Khrep-tyov  shining  with  sweet,  bright,  saving  light! 
There  on  the  mound  is  the  fort  where  its  eastern  side  faces  the 
forest. 

There  was  some  distance  to  go,  but  Basia  was  unconscious 
of  accomplishing  it.  The  soldiers  at  the  gate  on  the  side  of 


362  ^i-V    MICHAEL. 

the  village  did  not  recognize  her  in  the  darkness,  but  ad- 
mitted her,  thinking  her  some  hoy  sent  (-11  an  errand  and  re- 
turning to  the  commander.  She  clashed  in  the  midst  with  her 
last  remaining  breath,  ran  across  the  square  past  the  wells, 
where  the  dragoons  who  had  just  before  returned  from  a  re- 
connaissance had  watered  their  horses,  and  stopped  at  the 
door  of  the  main  building. 

Just  then  the  little  knight  and  Zagloba  were  sitting  on  a 
bench  before  the  fire  and  drinking  krupnik.  They  were  talk- 
ing about  Basia,  thinking  her  over  there  in  Rashkov  arranging 
matters.  They  were  both  sad,  for  it  was  dreadfully  dreary 
without  her  and  every  day  they  talked  about  when  she  would 
be  back. 

"God  prevent  sudden  rains,  thaws,  and  freshets.  If  any 
of  them  come  He  alone  knows  when  she  will  be  back,"  said 
Zagloba  gloomily. 

"The  winter  will  last  some  time  yet,"  said  the  little  knight; 
"and  in  eight  or  ten  days  I  shall  be  looking  every  hour  in 
the  direction  of  Mohilov  for  her." 

"I  wish  she  hadn't  gone.  There  is  nothing  for  me  here  in 
Khreptyov  without  her." 

"But  why  did  you  advise  it?" 

"Don't  fabricate,  Michael!  It  occurred  with  your  con- 
sent." .  .  . 

"If  she  only  returns  in  good  health." 

Here  the  little  knight  sighed  and  added: 

"In  good  health  and  very  soon!" 

At  that  the  door  creaked  and  a  tiny,  pitiful,  tattered  creat- 
ure, covered  with  snow,  began  to  cry  plaintively  on  the  thresh- 
old: 

"Michael  dear!    Michael  dear!" 

The  little  knight  sprang  to  his  feet,  but  for  a  moment  was 
so  amazed  that  he  stood  still  as  though  turned  to  stone;  he 
stretched  out  his  arms  and  blinked  and  stood  still. 

'  Michael!  Azya,  was  treacherous,  he  wanted  to  carry  me 
off;  but  I  lied,  and— help!" 

As  she  ended  she  tottered  and  fell  on  the  floor  as  if  dead; 
Pan  Michael  sprang  forward  and  lifted  her  in  his  arms  as  if 
she  had  been  a  feather,  and  cried  in  a  shrill  voice: 

"Merciful  Christ!" 

But  her  poor  little  head  hung  lifeless  on  his  shoulder. 
Thinking  that  it  was  only  a  corpse  that  he  held  in  his  .arms 
he  began  to  cry  in  a  horrible  voice: 

"Basia  is  dead!— dead!  Help!" 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  news  of  Basia's  arrrival  flashed  through  Kreptyov  like 
lightning,  but  no  one  saw  her  that  evening,  or  for  several 
evenings,  except  the  little  knight,  Pan  Zagloba,  and  tne  fe- 
male attendants.  After  fainting  on  the  threshold,  she  re- 
covered her  senses,  to  tell  him  in  a  few  words  what  had  hap- 
pened, and  how;  but  a  fresh  fainting-fit  quickly  followed, 
and  though  they  used  every  means  to  revive  her,  warming  her, 
giving  her  wine,  and  trying  to  give  her  nourishment,  by  an 
hour  later  she  did  not  even  recognize  her  husband,  and  there 
was  no  doubt  that  she  was  in  for  a  long  and  dangerous  illness. 

Meanwhile  there  was  great  excitement  in  Khreptyov. 
When  the  soldiers  heard  that  the  mistress  had  come  back 
half-dead,  they  rushed  out  into  the  square  like  a  swarm  of 
bees.  All  the  officers  gathered  together  in  the  lighted  hall 
and  with  low  whispering  impatiently  awaited  news  from 
Basia's  room.  However,  it  was  impossible  to  learn  anything 
for  a  long  time.  It  is  true  that  occasionally  a  maid  would 
hurry  past  to  the  kitchen  for  hot  water,  or  to  the  dispensary 
for  plasters,  ointments,  and  herbs,  but  they  would  not  let 
anyone  stop  them.  Anxiety  weighed  over  every  heart  like 
lead.  Crowds  even  from  the  village  collected  in  increasing 
numbers  upon  the  square  and  questions  passed  from  lip  to 
lip.  Azya's  treason  was  discussed  and  it  was  said  that  the 
mistress  had  saved  herself  by  flight,  which  had  lasted  a 
whole  week  without  either  food  or  sleep.  The  assembled  sol- 
diers were  last  seized  with  terrible  fury,  but  they  suppressed 
their  indignation,  fearing  lest  the  health  of  the  patient  might 
suffer. 

At  length,  after  a  long  wait,  Pan  Zagloba  went  out  to  the 
officers  with  his  eyes  red,  and  his  few  remaining  hairs  stand- 
ing upright  on  his  head;  they  thronged  around  him  and  at 
once  besieged  him  with  urgent  questions  in  low  tones. 

"Is  she  alive?     Is  she  alive?" 

"She  is  alive/'  said  the  old  mam,  "but  God  knows  whether 
for  an  hour  longer," 

(3*3) 


364  rAN    MICHAEL. 

Here  his  voice  was  choked  and  his  lips  quivered.  Putting 
his  head  in  his  hands,  he  sank  heavily  on  the  bench  and  his 
breast  heaved  with  suppressed  sobs. 

When  he  saw  this,  Pan  Mushalski  caught  Pan  Nyenashin- 
yets  in  his  embrace,  though  usually  he  did  not  care  much  for 
him,  and  began  to  utter  low  moans,  in  which  he  was  imme- 
diately joined  by  Pan  Nyenashinyets.  Pan  Motovidlo  looked 
as  if  he  was  trying  to  swallow  something  and  could  not;  Pan 
Snitko  began  to  unbutton  his  coat  with  trembling  fingers; 
Pan  Khromyka  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room  wring- 
ing his  'hands. 

The  soldiers  seeing  these  signs  of  despair  through  <the 
windows  and  supposing  that  the  lady  was  'already  dead,  were 
greatly  agitated  and  began  to  utter  lamentations.  When  he 
heard  this,  Zagloba  became  furious  and  darted  out  into  the 
square  like  a  stane  from  a  sling. 

"Silence,  you  rogues,  may  the  thunderbolt  strike  you/'  he 
cried  in  suppressed  tones. 

They  were  silent  immediately,  comprehending  that  it  was 
not  yet  time  to  lament,  but  they  stayed  in  the  square.  Za- 
globa  returned  to  the  room  and  somewhat  quieted  down  and 
again  took  a  seat  on  the  bench. 

At  that  moment  one  o*  £he  maids  again  appeared  at  the 
door  of  the  room. 

Zagloba  sprang  toward  her, 

"How  is  it  in  there?" 

"She  is  asleep." 

"Is  she  asleep?    God  be  praised." 

"Perhaps  the  Lord  will  grant.     .     .    .    ** 

"What  is  the  Pan  Commandant  doing  P 

"He  is  at  her  bedside." 

"That  is  well.    Now  go  after  what  you  were  sort  £or." 

Zagloba  turned  to  the  officers  and  repeated  vhat  she  had 
said,  crying: 

"May  the  Most  High  God  have  mercy!  she  is  asleep:  I  am 
begining  to  be  hopeful.  .  .  .  Phew!" 

And  they  also  all  drew  a  long  breath.  Then  they  collected 
about  Zagloba  in  a  ring  and  began  to  ask: 

"For  God's  sake  how  did  it  happen?  What  happened5 
How  did  she  escape  on  foot?" 

"She  did  not  escape  on  foot,  at  first,"  whispered  Zagloba^ 
"but  with  two  horses,  for  she  threw  that  dog — may  the  plagu£ 
slay  him! — from  his  saddle," 


PAN   MICHAEL.  365 

"I  can't  believe  my  ears!    .    . 

"She  struck  him  between  the  eyes  with  the  butt  of  a  pistol, 
and  as  they  were  some  distance  behind  the  others,  there  was 
no  one  to  see  and  pursue.  One  horse  was  eaten  by  wolves, 
and  the  other  was  drowned  under  the  ice.  Merciful  Christ! 
the  poor  thing  went  through  the  forests  alone,  without  food 
or  drink." 

Here  Pan  Zagloba  again  burst  into  tears  and  interrupted 
his  tale.  The  officers  also  sat  down  on  the  benches  in  wonder 
and  horror  and  pity  for  the  woman  they  all  loved. 

"When  she  arrived  in  the  neighborhood  of  Khreptyov," 
Zagloba  presently  continued,  "she  did  not  recognize  the  place 
and  was  making  ready  to  die  when  she  heard  the  creaking 
of  the  well-sweeps,  and  knew  that  she  was  close  to  us  and 
dragged  herself  home  with  her  last  breath." 

"God  guarded  her  in  her  extremity,"  said  Motovidlo,  as  he 
wiped  his  wet  moustache.  "He  will  still  guard  her." 

"It  will  be  so,  you  have  hit  the  mark,"  whispered  many 
voices. 

At  that  moment,  a  louder  noise  reached  them  from  the 
square.  Zagloba  again  sprang  up  in  fury  and  rushed  out  of 
the  door. 

In  the  square,  the  soldiers  all  had  their  heads  together, 
but  when  they  saw  Zagloba  and  two  other  officers,  they  fell 
back  into  a  semi-circle. 

"Be  quiet,  you  souls  of  dogs,  began  Zagloba,  or  I'll 
order—" 

But  from  the  semicircle  advanced  Zydor  Lusnia,  a  sar- 
geant  of  dragroons,  a  real  Mazovian,  'one  of  Pan  Michael's 
favorite  troopers.  He  took  a  couple  of  steps  forward,  straight- 
ened himself,  and  said  in  determined  tones: 

"I  beg  of  your  lordship,  since  such  a  son  has  injured  our 
lady,  that  we  may  seek  him  and  take  vengeance;  it  cannot  be 
otherwise.  What  I  say,  all  ask,  and  if  the  Colonel  cannot  go, 
we  will  go  under  other  leadership,  even  to  the  Crimea  itself, 
to  capture  him,  we  will  not  spare  him,  because  of  the  wrong 
done  to  our  lady." 

The  cold,  determined  menace  of  a  peasant  sounded  in  the 
sargeant's  voice;  other  dragoons  and  servants  of  the  accom- 
panying squadrons  began  to  grind  their  teeth,  rattle  their 
sabres,  and  mutter.  That  deep  muttering,  like  the  growling 
of  a  bear  at  night,  had  something  terrible  in  it. 

The  officer  stood  erect,  awaiting  an  answer,  and  whole 


366  PAN   MICHAEL. 

ranks  of  dragoons  and  fellow-officers  with  him,  and  they  ex- 
hibited such  evidences  of  fury  and  determination  as  entirely 
to  suspend  ordinary  discipline  for  the  time  being. 

For  a  time  there  was  silence,  suddenly  a  voice  in  one  of  the 
rear  ranks  was  heard. 

"That  man's  blood  is  the  best  medicine  for  the  mistress." 

Zagloba's  anger  evaporated,  for  he  was  touched  by  the 
soldiers'  affection  for  Basia,  and,  at  the  mention  of  medicine, 
another  idea  struck  him,  namely,  to  send  for  a  doctor  for 
Basia.  In  the  first  few  moments  no  one  had  thought  of  a 
doctor  in  that  wild  Khreptyov,  although  there  were  several 
in  Kamenets,  among  others,  a  certain  Greek,  a  celebrated 
man,  who  was  rich,  and  owned  several  stone  houses,  and 
was  so  learned  that  everybody  regarded  him  as  being  skillful 
in  the  black  art.  But  there  was  some  doubt  whether  he, 
being  so  rich,  would  be  willing  to  come  to  such  a  desert  at 
any  price,  being  a  man  whom  even  high  dignitaries  honored. 

Zagloba  reflected  for  a  few  moments  and  then  said: 

"Fitting  vengeance  shall  not  fail  that  arch-dog,  that  I 
promise  you,  and  it  would  be  better  for  him  for  the  king  to 
vow  vengeance  on  him  than  Zagloba.  But  we  do  not  yet 
know  whether  he  is  still  alive,  for  when  the  lady  wrenched 
herself  out  of  his  hands,  she  struck  him  right  in  the  brain 
with  the  butt  of  her  pistol.  But  this  is  no  time  to  think 
of  him,  we  must  first  save  the  lady." 

"We  would  be  glad  to  do  that,  even  with  our  own  lives," 
Lusnia  replied. 

And  a  muttering  again  arose  from  the  crowd  in  support 
of  his  words. 

"Listen  to  me,  Lusnia,"  said  Zagloba.  "In  Kamenets  lives 
a  doctor,  named  Eodopol.  You  shall  go  to  him  and  tell  him 
that  the  starosta  of  Podolia  has  sprained  his  leg  here  and 
is  waiting  for  aid.  If  he  is  outside  the  walls,  seize  him,  put 
him  upon  a  horse,  or  into  a  sack,  and  bring  him  to  Khreptyov 
without  stopping.  I  will  order  horses  to  be  stationed  at  short 
distances  apart,  and  you  will  go  at  a  gallop.  Only  be  careful 
to  bring  him  alive,  for  we  have  no  use  for  the  dead." 

A  murmur  of  satisfaction  was  heard  on  all  sides.  Lusnia's 
grim  moustache  moved,  as  he  said: 

"I  will  surely  bring  him  and  will  not  let  him  go  till  we  get 
to  Khreptyov." 

"Forward." 

"I  beg  your  lordship — " 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

"What  more?" 

"But  if  he  should  die?" 

"Let  him  drop,  but  he  must  get  here  alive.  Take  six  men 
and  set  out/5 

Lusnia  started  off.  The  others  were  glad  to  do  anything 
for  the  lady  and  ran  to  saddle  the  horses,  and  in  a  few  Paters, 
six  men  were  galloping  to  Kamenets.  After  them  some  of 
the  others  took  spare  horses,  to  station  along  the  road. 

Zagloba  returned  to  the  house  with  great  self-satisfaction. 

Presently,  Volodiyovski  came  out  of  the  bed-room,  greatly 
altered,  scarcely  conscious  and  heedless  of  words  of  sympathy 
and  consolation.  After  telling  Zagloba  that  Basia  was  still 
sleeping,  he  sank  down  on  the  bench  and  gazed  vacantly  at 
the  door  beyond  which  she  was  lying.  To  the  officers  he 
looked  as  if  he  was  listening,  so  they  all  held  their  breath  and 
a  dead  silence  fell  on  the  rocm. 

Presenly,  Zagloba  approached  the  little  knight  on  tip-toe. 

"Michael,  I  have  sent  to  Kamenets  for  a  doctor,  but  per- 
haps it  would  be  well  to  send  for  someone  else." 

Pan  Michael  seemed  to  be  trying  to  collect  his  thoughts 
and  apparently  did  not  understand. 

"For  a  priest!"  said  Zagloba,  "Father  Kaminski  might  get 
here  by  the  morning." 

The  little  knight  closed  his  eyes  and  turned  his  face,  which 
was  as  white  as  a  sheet,  towards  the  fire,  and  said,  in  hurried 
accents: 

"Jesus,  Jesus!" 

Zagloba  said  no  more,  but  went  out  and  gave  orders.  When 
he  returned,  Pan  Michael  was  gone.  The  officers  told  Za- 
globa that  the  sick  woman  had  called  her  husband,  whether 
in  .consciousness  or  delirium,  they  could  not  tell. 

The  old  noble,  by  personal  inspection,  soon  satisfied  him- 
self that  it  was  in  delirium. 

Basia's  cheeks  were  scarlet,  her  eyes,  though  glittering, 
were  sightless,  as  if  the  pupils  had  run  into  the  white.  Her 
pale  hands  seemed  to  be  trying  to  find  something  in  front 
of  her  on  the  coverlet  with  vague  movements.  Pan  Michael, 
only  half-alive,  was  lying  at  her  feet. 

From  time  to  time  the  sick  woman  muttered  in  low  tones, 
or  uttered  disjointed  phrases  more  loudly,  among  which 
Khreptyov  was  most  frequently  heard;  it  was  evident  that 
she  thought  she  was  still  on  the  road.  The  ceaseless  move- 
ments of  her  hands  on  the  coverlet  was  the  most  disturbing 


36fc  PAN   MICHAEL. 

thing  to  Zagloba,  for  in  its  unconscious  repetition  he  recog- 
nized the  signs  of  approaching  death.  He  had  had  great 
experience  and  many  people  had  died  in  his  presence,  but  his 
heart  had  never  been  torn  with  such  grief  as  at  the  sight  of 
this  litle  blossom  withering  so  early. 

Eealizing  that  only  God  could  save  tha  ebbing  life,  he  knelt 
beside  the  bed,  and  began  to  pray  fervently. 

Meanwhile,  Basia's  breathing  grew  more  labored  and  grad- 
ually changed  to  a  rattle.  Pan  Michael  sprang  up  from 
her  feet  and  Zagloba  rose  from  his  knees.  Neither  uttered 
a  word  to  the  other,  but  simply  gazed  into  each  other's  eyes, 
and  there  was  terror  in  that  gaze.  They  thought  that  it  was 
her  death  agony,  but  only  for  a  few  moments,  her  breathing 
soon  became  easier  and  more  measured. 

From  that  moment  they  lived  between  fear  and  hope.  The 
night  slowly  dragged  along.  The  officers  did  not  go  to  rest 
either  but  sat  in  the  hall,  alternately  gazing  at  the  bed- 
room door,  whispering  among  themselves,  and  dozing.  From 
time  to  time  a  boy  came  in  to  put  wood  oil  the  hearth  and 
at  every  movement  of  the  latch  they  sprang  from  the  bench, 
thinking  that  Michael  or  Zagloba  was  coming  in,  and  that 
they  would  hear  the  dreadful  words: 

"She  no  longer  lives." 

At  last  the  cocks  began  to  crow,  and  she  was  still  wrestling 
with  the  fever.  Towards  morning,  a  fierce  rain-storm  broke, 
roaring  among  the  rafters  and  howling  round  the  roof.  Some- 
times it  beat  on  to  the  hearth,  driving  the  names  with  smoke 
and  sparks  into  the  room.  About  dawn,  Pan  Motovidlo 
went  out,  for  he  had  to  make  a  reconaissance.  At  last  day 
broke,  pale  and  cloudy,  and  illumined  worn  faces. 

On  the  place-of-arms,  the  usual  movement  commenced. 
In  the  whistling  of  the  storm  were  heard  the  stir  of  horses 
on  the  stable  planks,  the  creaking  of  the  well-sweeps  and  the 
voices  of  the  soldiers,  but  soon  a  bell  was  heard:  Father 
Kaminski  had  arrived. 

As  he  entered  in  his  white  surplice  the  officers  fell  on 
their  knees.  It  seemed  to  them  all  that  the  solemn  moment 
had  arrived  which  would  surely  be  followed  by  death.  The 
sick  woman  had  not  regained  consciousness,  so  that  the  priest 
could  not  hear  her  confession  He  only  administered  Ex- 
treme Unction,  and  then  began  to  reason  with  and  comfort 
the  little  knight,  urging  him  to  yield  to  the  will  of  God.  But 
his  consolations  had  no  effect,  for  no  words  could  assuage 
his  suffering. 


PAX    MICHAEL. 

Death  hovered  over  Basia  for  a  whole  day.  Like  a  spider, 
secreted  in  some  dark  corner  of  the  ceiling,  which  sometimes 
creeps  into  the  light,  and  lowers  itself  on  an  invisible  thread, 
so  at  times,  death  seemed  to  come  almost  down  to  Basia's 
head  and  more  than  once  the  watchers  thought  that  his 
shadow  was  falling  on  her  brow,  and  that  that  bright  spirit 
was  just  spreading  its  wings  to  fly  away  out  of  Khreptyov, 
somewhere  into  the  limitless  expanse  on  the  other  side  of 
life.  Then,  like  a  spider,  death  again  hid  away  under  the 
ceiling  and  hope  filled  their  hearts. 

But  this  was  merely  an  insufficient  and  passing  hope,  for 
no  one  ventured  to  believe  that  Basda  could  survive  the 
sickness.  Volodiyovski,  himself,  had  lost  all  hope  of  her 
recovery  and  his  suffering  became  so  great  that  Pan  Zagloba, 
though  in  extreme  anguish  himself,  became  alarmed  and 
gave  him  to  the  care  of  the  officers. 

"For  God's  sake  watch  him!"  said  the  old  man,  "he  may 
plunge  a  knife  into  his  body." 

This  idea  did  not  occur  to  Pan  Michael,  although  in  his 
extreme  grief  and  suffering  he  incessantly  asked  himself: 

"How  am  I  to  remain  when  she  goes?  How  can  I  let  my 
beloved  go  alone?  what  will  she  say  when  she  looks  round 
and  does  not  find  me  near  her?" 

At  these  reflections,  he  longed  with  his  whole  soul  to  die 
with  her,  for  as  he  could  not  imagine  life  on  earth  for  him- 
self without  her,  so  also  he  could  not  imagine  that  she  could 
be  happy  without  him  in  the  other  life,  and  not  long  for  him. 

In  the  afternoon,  the  evil-boding  spider  again  hid  in  the 
ceiling.  The  flush  on  Basia's  cheeks  died  out,  and  the  fever 
decreased  so  greatly  that  the  patient  recovered  consciousness 
somewhat. 

For  some  time  she  lay  still  with  closed  eyes,  and  then 
opened  them,  and  gazed  into  the  little  knight's  face  and 
asksd: 

"Michael,  am  I  at  Khreptyov?" 

"Yes,  my  darling,"  he  answered,  clenching  his  teeth. 

"And  are  you  really  standing  beside  me?" 

"Yes!   how  are  you  feeling?" 

"Oh,— well." 

"It  was  evident  that  she  was  not  certain  herself  that  the 
fever  was  not  producing  illusory  visions,  but  from  that  mo- 
ment she  regained  consciousness  more  and  more. 

In  the  evening,  Lusnia  and  his  men  returned  and  shook 
34 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

out  of  a  sack  in  front  of  the  fort,  the  doctor  of  Kanienets, 
together  with  his  medicines;  he  was  scarcely  alive.  But 
when  he  learned  that  he  was  not  in  the  hands  of  robbers,  as 
he  had  imagined,  but  was  brought  in  that  fashion  to  a 
patient,  after  a  passing  faintness  he  immmediately  went  to 
the  rescue,  especially  as  Zagloba  held  in  front  of  him  a  purse 
full  of  coin  in  one  hand,  and  a  loaded  pistol  in  the  other,  and 
cried: 

"This  is  your  fee  for  life,  and  that  for  death." 

That  same  night,  about  dawn,  the  evil-boding  spider  con- 
cealed itself  somewhere  finally,  whereupon  the  doctor's  as- 
surance: "She  will  be  ill  for  a  long  time,  but  she  will  re- 
cover," joyfully  echoed  through  Khreptyov.  When  Pan 
Michael  first  heard  it,  he  fell  to  the  floor  and  burst  out  sob- 
bing so  violently  that  it  seemed  as  if  his  breast  would  hurst. 
Zagloba  became  quite  faint  with  joy,  and  his  face  broke  out 
into  a  perspiration,  and  he  was  scarcely  able  to  cry,  "A 
drink."  The  officers  also  embraced  one  another. 

On  the  square  the  dragoons  again  gathered  with  the  escort 
and  Pan  Motovidlo's  Cossacks;  they  could  scarcely  be  re- 
strained from  shouting.  They  were  anxious  to  manifest  their 
delight  in  some  way  and  began  to  beg  for  some  of  the  robbers 
that  were  imprisoned  in  the  cellars  of  Khreptyov,  so  that  they 
might  hang  them  for  the  lady's  benefit. 

But  the  little  knight  refused, 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Basia  was  so  violently  ill  for  another  week  that  but  for  the 
doctor's  assurance,  both  the  little  knight  and  Zagloba  would 
have  admitted  that  the  flame  of  her  life  might  be  extingu- 
ished at  any  moment.  Not  till  after  that  lapse  of  time  did 
she  show  any  manifest  improvement;  she  fully  recovered  con- 
sciousness and,  although  the  doctor  predicted  that  she  would 
have  to  keep  her  bed  for  a  month  or  six  weeks,  still  she  was 
sure  of  recovering  her  former  perfect  health  and  strength. 

During  her  illness  the  little  knight  scarcely  stirred  from 
her  pillow;  if  possible  he  loved  her  more  ardently  after  the 
perils  she  had  passed  through,  and  could  see  nothing  in  the 
world  beyond  her.  Sometimes  when  he  sat  at  her  side  and 
gazed  on  that  little  loving  face,  still  thin  and  pinched,  though 
joyous,  and  those  eyes  that  regained  more  of  their  old  fire 
with  each  day,  he  felt  inclined  to  laugh,  cry,  and  shout  with 

joy- 

"My  only  Bashka  is  getting  better;  she  is  getting  better!" 

And  he  threw  himself  on  her  hands  and  sometimes  kissed 
those  poor  little  feet  that  had  so  bravely  waded  through  the 
deep  snow  to  Khreptyov;  in  a  word,  he  loved  and  honored  her 
to  excess.  He  felt  deeply  all  that  he  owed  to  Providence 
and  on  one  occasion  he  said  in  the  presence  of  Zagloba  and 
the  officers: 

"I  am  a  poor  fellow,  "but  even  if  I  had  to  work  my  arms  off 
to  the  elbows,  I  would  get  money  for  a  little  church,  though 
only  wooden.  And  as  often  as  the  bells  are  rung  in  it,  I  will 
remember  God's  mercy,  and  my  soul  will  melt  within  me  with 
gratitude." 

"May  God  grant  first  that  we  successfully  go  through  this 
Turkish  war,"  said  Zagloba.  , 

Then  the  little  knight  twisted  his  moustache  and  answered: 
"God  best  knows  what  is  most  pleasing  to  him,  if  he  wants  a 
church,  he  will  preserve  me,  and  if  he  prefers  my  blood,  I  will 
not  spare  it,  as  I  love  God." 

With  returning  health  Basia  recovered  her  spirits. 

V37O 


372  PAN  MICHAEL. 

weeks  later,  one  evening,  she  ordered  her  chamber  door  to  be 
opened  a  little,  and  when  the  officers  had  gathered  in  the 
large  hall,  she  called  out  in  her  silvery  tones: 

"Good  evening,  gentlemen,  I'm  not  going  to  die  this  time, 
eh?" 

"Thanks  to  Jhe  Most  High  God!"  the  soldiers  replied  in 
chorus. 

"Glory  be  to  Gdfl,  beloved  child,"  cried  Pan  Motovidlo,  who 
especially  watched  over  Basia  with  paternal  affection,  and  who 
always  spoke  in  Russian  in  moments  of  emotion. 

Basia  continued,  "Gentlemen,  see  what  has  happened,  who 
could  have  hoped  for  this?  It  was  fortunate  to  end  thus." 

"God  kept  watch  over  innocence,"  came  the  chorus  through 
the  door  again. 

"But  Pan  Zagloba  more  than  once  has  laughed  at  me,  for 
having  more  love  for  the  sabre  than  the  distaff.  Well  a  dis- 
taff or  a  needle  would  have  been  a  fine  help  for  me,  but  didn't 
I  behave  like  a  cavalier,  didn't  I?" 

"An  angel  could  not  have  done  better." 

Zagloba  interrupted  the  conversation  by  shutting  the 
chamber  door,  as  he  feared  too  much  excitement  for  Basia. 
But  she  was  as  angry  as  a  cat  with  the  old  man,  as  she  wanted 
to  talk  longer,  and  especially  to  receive  more  praises  for  her 
courage  and  valor.  When  the  danger  had  passed  and  become 
merely  a  memory  she  was  very  proud  of  her  behavior  with 
Azya,  and  was  very  greedy  of  praise.  More  than  once  she 
turned  to  the  little  knight  and  pressing  his  breast  with  her 
finger,  cried  like  a  spoiled  child: 

"Praise  my  courage." 

And  he  obediently  praised  and  caressed  her,  kissing  her 
eyes  and  hands,  till  Zagloba,  although  really  greatly  moved 
himself,  feigned  to  be  shocked  and  muttered: 

"Ah,  everything  will  be  as  indulgent  as  a  grandfather's 
whip." 

The  general  rejoicing  at  Khreptyov  over  Basia's  recovery 
was  only  marred  by  the  memory  of  the  injury  done  to  the 
Commonwealth  by  Azya's  treason,  and  the  terrible  fate  of  the 
elder  Pan  Novovyeyski  and  the  Boskas  and  Evka.  It  greatly 
troubled  Basia  as  well  as  everybody  else,  for  what  had  hap- 
pened in  Rashkov  was  known  in  detail,  not  only  at  Khrept- 
yov, but  at  Kamenets  and  still  further.  A  few  days  before, 
Pan  Myslishevski  had  called  at  Khreptyov,  he  had  not  lost  all 
hope  of  winning  the  other  captains  over  to  the  Polish  side,  in 


PAN   MICHAEL.  373 

spite  of  the  treachery  of  Azya,  Krychinski,  and  Adurovich. 
Pan  Bogush  followed  Pan  Myslishevski  and  later  on,  direct 
news  came  from  Mohilov,  Yampol  and  Rashkov  itself. 

At  Mohilov,  Pan  Gorzenski,  who  was  evidently  abler  as  a 
soldier  than  an  orator,  had  not  allowed  himself  to  be  tricked. 
He  had  intercepted  the  instructions  from  Azya  to  the  Tartars 
left  behind,  and  fallen  upon  them  with  a  handful  of  Ma- 
zovian  infantry  and  slaughtered  or  taken  them  all  prisoners. 
Moreover,  he  had  sent  warning  to  Yampol,  by  which  means 
that  place  was  saved.  Soon  afterwards  the  cavalry  returned. 
Rashkov,  therefore,  was  the  sole  sufferer.  Pan  Michael  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  Pan  Byaloglovski  himself,  giving  a  report 
of  what  had  happened  there  and  other  matters  regarding  the 
whole  Commonwealth. 

"Tis  well  that  I  returned,"  wrote  Pan  Byaloglovski,  among 
other  things,  "for  Novovyeyski,  my  subordinate,  is  now  in  no 
condition  for  duty.  He  is  more  like  a  skeleton  than  a  man, 
and  we  are  sure  to  lose  a  great  cavalier,  for  he  is  weighed 
down  by  suffering  beyond  his  powers  of  endurance.  His 
father  is  slain,  his  sister  in  the  extremity  of  shame,  handed 
over  to  Adurovich  by  Azya,  who  took  Panna  Boska  for  him- 
self. Nothing  can  be  done  for  them,  even  if  they  should  be 
successfully  rescued  from  captivity.  We  know  this  from  a 
Lipkov  who  sprained  his  shoulder  while  crossing  the  river, 
and,  being  captured  by  our  men,  he  was  put  on  the  coals  and 
confessed  everything.  Azya,  son  of  Tukhay  Bey, Krychinski, 
and  Adurovich,  have  gone  to  Adrianople.  Novovyeyski  is 
making  every  effort  to  follow  them,  declaring  that  even  from 
the  heart  of  the  Sultan's  camp  he  must  take.  Azya  and  have 
vengeance.  He  always  was  stubborn  and  resolute,  and  now 
it  cannot  be  wondered  at,  since  it  concerns  Panna  Boska, 
whose  sad  fate  we  all  mourn,  for  she  was  a  sweet  girl  and  I 
don't  know  whose  heart  she  did  not  win.  But  I  restrain 
Novovyeyski,  telling  him  that  Azya  himself  will  come  to  him, 
for  war  is  certain,  and  moreover,  the  Hordes  will  form  the 
vanguard.  We  have  news  from  Moldavia,  from  the  Perku- 
labs,  as  well  as  from  Turkish  merchants,  that  forces  are 
already  gathering  near  Adrianople — large  numbers  of  the 
Horde.  The  Turkish  cavalry,  which  they  call  Spahis,  are 
also  mustering,  and  the  Sultan  is  himself  coming  with  the 
Janissaries.  Sir,  there  will  be  countless  swarms  of  them,  for 
the  whole  of  the  East  is  in  motion,  and  we  have  only  a  hand- 
ful of  troops.  Our  whole  hope  is  in  the  rock  of  Kamenets, 


7M.Y    MICHAEL. 

which,  God  grant,  is  properly  provisioned.  It  is  Spring  at 
Adrianople,  and  almost  Spring  with  us,  for  heavy  rains  are 
falling  and  the  grass  is  sprouting.  1  am  going  to  Yampol,  for 
Rashkov  is  a  mere  heap  of  ashes,  and  there  is  no  place  to  rest 
one's  head,  nor  anything  to  put  into  one's  mouth.  Besides, 
I  think  that  we  shall  be  withdrawn  from  all  the  commands." 

The  little  knight  had  intelligence  equally  positive,  and 
even  more  so,  since  it  came  from  Khotsim.  Shortly  before 
he  had  forwarded  it  to  the  Hetman.  Nevertheless,  Byalog- 
lovski's  letter,  coming  from  the  extreme  border,  profoundly 
impressed  him,  because  it  confirmed  that  intelligence.  But 
the  little  knight  had  no  fears  about  the  war;  only  for  Basia. 

The  Hetman's  order  to  withdraw  the  garrisons  may  arrive 
any  day/'  he  said  to  Zagloba,  "and  duty  is  duty.  It  will  be 
necessary  to  move  without  delay,  but  Bashka  is  still  in  bed, 
and  it's  a  bad  time." 

"If  ten  orders  arrived,"  said  Zagloba,  "Bashka  is  the  basis 
of  everything;  we  will  stay  here  till  she  has  quite  recovered. 
Besides,  the  war  will  not  commence  till  the  thaws  are  over, 
much  less  before  winter  is  passed,  more  especially  as  they  will 
bring  heavy  artillery  against  Kamenets." 

"The  old  volunteer  always  dwells  in  you,"  the  little  knight 
impatiently  answered;  "you  think  an  order  may  be  delayed  by 
private  matters." 

"Well,  if  an  order  is  dearer  to  you  than  Basia,  pack  her  into 
a  wagon  and  march.  I  know,  I  know;  at  an  order,  you  are 
ready  to  pitch-fork  her  into  a  wagon  if  she's  unable  to  get  in 
with  her  own  strength.  The  deuce  take  you  and  such  disci- 
pline! In  the  old  days  a  man  did  what  he  could;  and  what 
he  couldn't,  he  left.  Kindness  is  on  your  lips,  but  only  let 
them  cry,  'Haida,  on  the  Turk!'  and  you  spit  out  your  kind- 
ness like  a  kernel,  and  take  that  unfortunate  woman  on 
horseback  with  a  rope." 

"I,  no  pity  for  Bashka!  fear  the  wounds  of  the  Crucified!" 
cried  the  little  knight. 

For  some  time  Pan  Zagloba  puffed  with  anger,  and  then, 
looking  at  Pan  Michael's  troubled  face,  he  said: 

"Michael,  dear,  you  know  that  what  I  say  is  out  of  my  true 
fatherly  love  for  Bashka,  otherwise,  should  I  be  sitting  here 
under  the  Turkish  axe  instead  of  enjoying  my  ease  in  a  safe 
place,  which  no  man  could  take  ill  of  me  at  my  years.  But 
who  got  Bashka  for  you?  If  it  was  I,  then  make  me  drink  a 
tun  of  water  without  anything  to  flavor  it." 


PAN    MICHAEL.  275 

"I  could  not  repay  you  for  Bashka  in  a  whole  lifetime,"  re- 
plied the  little  knight. 

Then  they  embraced  each  other  and  perfect  harmony  again 
reigned  between  them. 

The  little  knight  said,  "I  have  planned  that  you  shall  take 
Bashka  to  Skshetuski's,  to  Lukov,  when  war  breaks  out. 
Chambuls  do  not  go  so  far  as  that." 

"I  will  do  that  for  you,  though  I  should  be  delighted  to  go 
against  the  Turk,  for  nothing  so  disgusts  me  as  that  swinish 
people  that  does  not  drink  wine." 

"I  only  dread  one  thing,  Bashka  will  want  to  be  at  Kame- 
nets  so  as  to  be  near  me.  My  flesh  creeps  at  the  thought  of 
it,  but  as  God  is  God,  she  will  try." 

"Do  not  allow  her.  Is  it  a  little  evil  that  has  already  re- 
sulted from  your  indulging  her  in  everything,  and  letting  her 
take  that  expedition  to  Eashkov,  though  I  was  the  first  to  cry 
out  against  it?" 

"That's  not  true,  you  said  you  wouldn't  give  any  advice." 

"When  I  say  I  won't  advise  a  thing  it's  worse  than  if  I  had 
opposed  it." 

"Bashka  ought  to  have  got  a  lesson  now,  but  she  hasn't. 
When  she  sees  the  sword  hanging  above  my  head  she  will  re- 
sist." 

"Don't  let  her  resist,  I  repeat;  for  God's  sake!  what  kind  of 
a  straw  husband  are  you?" 

"I  acknowledge  that  when  she  puts  her  knuckles  to  her 
eyes,  and  pretends  to  cry,  my  heart  is  like  butter  in  a  frying- 
pan.  She  must  have  administered  something  to  me.  As  for 
sending  her  away,  I  will  do  so,  because  her  safety  is  dearer  to 
me  than  my  own  life,  but  when  I  think  that  I  must  pain  her, 
my  breath  catches  with  pity." 

"Dear  Michael,  have  God  in  your  heart!  don't  be  led  by  the 
nose." 

"Bah!  don't  be  led!  If  it  wasn't  you  that  said  I  had  no 
pity  for  her,  who  was  it?" 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  Zagloba. 

"You  are  not  wanting  in  ingenuity,  but  now  you're  scratch- 
ing your  ear  yourself." 

"Because  I  am  trying  to  think  what  better  persuasions  to 
use." 

"But  if  she  immediately  puts  her  little  knuckles  to  her 
eyes?" 

"She  will,  as  I  love  God!"  exclaimed  Zagloba  in  evident 
alarm. 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

And  they  were  both  perplexed,  for  to  tell  the  truth,  Basia 
had  taken  the  exact  measure  of  both.  During  her  illness 
they  had  terribly  spoilt  her,  and  they  loved  her  so  much  that 
the  necessity  of  opposing  her  wishes  filled  them  with  dread. 
That  Basia  would  not  make  any  opposition,  but  submissively 
yield  to  the  decree,  they  both  knew,  but  without  mentioning 
Pan  Michael,  Zagloba  would  far  rather  have  made  the  third 
of  a  trio  in  charging  a  whole  regiment  of  Janissaries,  than  tc 
see  her  putting  her  little  knuckles  up  to  her  eyee. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

That  very  day  they  received  what  they  considered  sure 
assistance  in  the  guise  of  beloved  and  unexpected  guests. 
Towards  evening  the  Ketlings  arrived,  without  any  warning. 
There  was  indescribable  delight  and  surprise  at  Khreptyov 
on  their  arrival,  and  they  were  equally  relieved  after  their  first 
inquiries  to  learn  of  Basia's  convalescence.  Krysia  imme- 
diately rushed  to  the  bed-chamber,  where  Basia's  cries  and 
exclamations  immediately  assured  the  little  knight  of  her 
happiness. 

Ketling  and  Volodiyovski  exchanged  many  embraces;  now 
holding  each  other  at  arm's  length  and  then  hugging  again. 

"For  God's  sake!"  cried  the  little  knight.  "I  am  more 
pleased  to  see  you  than  if  I  'had  received  a  baton;  but  what 
are  you  doing  in  this  region?" 

"The  Hetman  has  appointed  me  to  the  command  of  the 
artillery  at  Kamenets,"  Ketling  replied:  "and  so  I  went  there 
with  my  wife.  Hearing  of  your  troubles  I  set  out  for  Khrep- 
tyov without  delay.  God  be  praised,  my  dear  Michael,  that 
everything  has  ended  well!  We  travelled  in  great  anxiety 
and  uncertainty,  for  we  did  not  know  whether  we  were 
coming  here  to  rejoice  or  to  grieve." 

"To  rejoice,  to  rejoice!"  cried  Zagloba. 

"How  did  it  happen?"  asked  Ketling. 

The  little  knight  and  Zagloba  vied  with  each  other  in 
telling  about  it;  and  Ketling  listened,  lifting  up  his  eyes  and 
hands  to  Heaven,  as  he  marvelled  at  dear  Basia's  courage. 

After  they  had  talked  to  their  heart's  content  the  little 
knight  began  to  ask  Ketling  about  himself,  and  he  replied 
in  detail.  After  their  mariage  they  had  lived  on  the  border 
of  Oourland,  and  were  so  happy  in  each  other  that  Heaven 
could  be  no  better.  When  Ketling  took  Krysia  he  was  sure 
that  she  was  a  'more  than  earthly'  being  and  he  had  not 
altered  his  opinion  as  yet. 

Pan  Zajrlo'ba  and  Pan  Michael,  by  this  expression  recog- 
nizing the  old  Ketling,  who  always  expressed  himself  in  such 

(377) 


MICHAEL. 

a  refined  and  courtly  manner,  again  began  to  embrace  him, 
and  when  all  three  had  sufficiently  indulged  their  affection 
the  old  noble  asked: 

"Has  there  come  to  that  'more  than  earthly'  being  any 
earthly  trifle  that  kicks  with  its  feet  and  tries  to  find  the 
teeth  in  its  mouth  with  its  finger?" 

"God  gave  us  a  son,"  said  Ketling;  "and  now  again — " 

"I  noticed,"  Zagloba  interrupted.  "But  everything  here 
is  unchanged." 

He  then  fixed  his  sound  eye  on  the  little  knight  whose 
lips  quivered  repeatedly. 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Krysia's  arrival; 
she  pointed  to  the  door  and  said: 

"Bashka  invites  you." 

They  all  went  in  together  and  fresh  greetings  commenced. 
Ketling  kissed  Basia's  hand  and  Pan  Michael  again  kissed 
Krysia's  and  then  they  all  looked  at  one  another  with  curi- 
osity, as  people  do  after  a  long  separation. 

Ketling  had  scarcely  changed  at  all,  except  that  his  hair 
was  cropped  close,  which  made  him  appear  younger;  but 
Krysia  had  greatly  altered.  She  was  not  so  slim  'as  of  old 
and  her  face  was  paler,  which  made  the  down  on  her  lip  look 
darker;  but  she  still  had  the  beautiful  eyes  of  old  with  their 
unusually  long  lashes,  and  the  old  tranquil  expression.  But 
her  features  had  lost  their  former  marvellous  delicacy.  It 
was  true  that  the  deterioration  might  only  be  temporary,  but 
as  Pan  Michael  looked  at  her  and  compared  her  with  his 
Bashka  he  could  not  help  thinking: 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  How  could  I  fall  in  love  with  her 
when  the  two  were  together?  Where  were  my  eyes?" 

On  the  other  hand  Basia  looked  beautiful  to  Ketling;  for 
she  really  was  beautiful  with  her  golden  locks  straying  over 
her  brow  and  her  complexion,  which  had  lost  some  of  its 
glow  during  her  illness,  and  had  become  like  the  leaf  of  a 
white  rose.  But  now  her  little  face  was  lit  up  with  pleasure 
and  her  delicate  nostrils  were  very  mobile.  She  looked  so 
youthful  that  she  scarcely  seemed  to  have  reached  maturity 
yet;  and  at  the  first  glance  she  might  have  been  taken  for 
some  ten  years  younger  than  Ketling^s  wife. 

But  the  only  effect  of  her  beauty  on  the  sensitive  Ketling 
was  to  make  him  think  more  tenderly  .of  his  wife,  for  he  felt 
some  self -reproach  on  her  account. 

Both  women  told  each  other  all  that  could  be  crowded 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


37* 


into  a  few  moments  and  the  whole  party  sat  around  Basia's 
bed  and  began  to  recall  old  times.  But  somehow  the  conver- 
sation halted,  for  in  those  old  times  there  were  delicate  sub- 
jects,— confidential  passages  bet  ween  Pan  Michael  and  Krysia; 
and  the  indifference  of  the  little  knight  for  the  now  beloved 
Bashka;  and  certain  promises  and  desperations.  The  old  life 
at  Ketling's  house  had  a  charm  for  all,  and  had  left  pleasant 
memories  behind;  but  it  was  inconvenient  to  talk  about  it. 

Ketling  soon  began  to  speak  of  other  matters. 

"I  have  not  yet  told  you  that  on  the  way  we  stopped  with 
Pan  Yan,  who  would  not  let  us  go  for  two  weeks  and  gave 
us  such  entertainment  that  it  could  not  be  better  in  Heaven." 

"By  the  love  of  God!  How  are  the  Skshetuskis?"  cried 
Zagloba.  "Then  you  found  them  at  home!" 

"We  did;  for  he  had  returned  from  the  Hetman's  for  a 
time  with  his  three  elder  sons  who  are  in  the  cavalry." 

"I  have  not  seen  Pan  Yan  nor  his  family  since  your  mar- 
riage," said  the  little  knight.  "He  was  here  in  the  Wilder- 
ness with  his  three  sons;  but  I  did  not  chance  to  meet  him." 

"They  are  all  very  anxious  to  see  you,"  said  Ketling,  turn- 
ing to  Zagloba. 

"Bah!  And  I  to  see  them,"  replied  the  old  noble.  "But 
it's  like  this:  when  I  <am  here  I  am  sad  without  them  and 
if  I  go  there  I  shall  be  sad  without  this  weasel.  .  .  .  Such 
is  human  life;  when  the  wind  doesn't  blow  into  one  ear  it 
does  into  the  other.  .  .  .  But  it  is  worst  for  the  orphaned 
man,  for  if  I  had  something  I  should  not  be  loving  a  stran- 
ger." 

"You  would  not  love  your  own  children  more  than  us," 
said  Basia. 

Zagloba  was  greatly  pleased  to  hear  that  and  cast  aside  his 
sad  thoughts  and  resumed  his  jovial  mood;  presently  he  said: 

"Ah,  I  was  an  idiot  there  at  Ketling's:  I  matched  Kryshka 
and  Bashka  with  you  two,  and  did  not  think  of  myself.  Then 
there  was  still  time.  .  .  .  " 

"Confess,  both  of  you,  that  you  would  have  fallen  in  love 
>with  me,  and  that  either  of  you  would  have  preferred  me 
to  Michael  or  Ketling." 

"Of  course  we  should,"  cried  Basia. 

"Halshka  Skshetuska,  also  in  her  day  would  have  preferred 
me.  Ah!  it  might  have  been.  Then  I  should  have  had  a 
sedate  woman,  none  of  your  vixens,  knocking  Tartar's  teeth 
out.  But  is  she  well,  there?" 


38o  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"She  is  well,  but  rather  worried,  for  their  two  middle  boys 
ran  away  from  school  at  Lukov  to  the  army/'  answered  Ket- 
ling.  "Pan  Yan  himself  is  glad  that  the  boys  have  sueh 
mettle;  but  a  mother  is  a  mother  almost  always." 

"Have  they  many  children?"  asked  Basia  with  a  sigh. 

"Twelve  boys,  and  now  the  fair  sex  ha's  begun,"  answered 
Ketling. 

Thereupon  Zagloba  cried,  "Ha!  God's  special  blessing  is 
upon  that  house.  I  have  reared  them  all  at  my  own  breast 
like  a  pelican.  ...  I  must  pull  those  middle  boys'  ears, 
for  if  they  must  run  away  why  didn't  they  come  to  Michael? 
But  wait,  it  must  have  been  -Michael  and  Yashek  that  ran 
away.  There  was  such  a  flock  of  them  that  their  own  father 
got  their  names  mixed  up;  and  there  was  not  a  crow  to  be 
seen  for  three  miles  round  about;  the  rascals  had  killed  them 
all  with  their  muskets.  Bah!  bah!  you  would  have  to  hunt 
all  the  world  over  for  another"  such  woman.  'Halshka!'  I 
used  to  say  to  her,  'the  lads  are  getting  too  big  for  me,  I 
must  have  another  to  sport  with/  Then  she  would  pretend 
to  frown  at  me;  but  the  time  ^;ime  as  if  it  had  been  written 
down.  Just  think!  it  got  to  such  a  pitch  that  when  the  de- 
sires of  any  woman  in  the  neighborhood  were  not  blessed  she 
borrowed  a  dress  from  Halshka  and  it  helped  her;  it  did,  as 
God  is  dear  to  me.  .  .  . 

They  all  greatly  marvelled,  and  a  moment's  silence  en- 
sued; then  suddenly  the  little  knight's  voice  was  heard: 

"Bashka,  do  you  hear  that?" 

"Michael,  will  you  be  quiet?"  she  replied. 

But  Michael  would  not  be  quiet,  for  cunning  schemes  came 
into  his  head.  It  occurerd  to  him  that  the  accomplishment 
of  an  equally  important  matter  might  be  combined  with  that 
one;  -and  so  he  began  to  talk  as  if  to  himself,  carelessly,  and 
as  if  it  were  of  no  special  importance: 

"By  Heavens!    It  would  be  a  good  thing  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Skshetuski  and  his  wife;  but  now  he  won't  be  at  home,  as 
he  is  going  to  the  Hetman;  but  she  is  sensible  and  is  not 
in  the  habit  of  tempting  the  Lord  God,  and  so  she  will  remain* 
at  home.     .    .     . 

Here  he  turned  to  Krysia. 

"Spring  is  approaching  and  it  will  be  fine  weather.  It  is 
too  early  for  Bashka  now,  but  I  might  not  mind  a  little 
later,  as  it  is  an  obligation  of  friendship.  Pan  Zagloba  would 
take  you  both  there,  and  when  all  was  quiet  in  the  Autumn 
I  would  follow  you.  .  .  . 


PAN   MICHAEL.  381 

"That  is  a  magnificent  idea,"  exclaimed  Zagloba;  "I  must 
go  anyway,  for  I  have  been  ungrateful  to  them.  Indeed,  I 
have  forgotten  their  existence,  till  I  am  ashamed." 

"What do  you  say  to  it?"  asked  Pan  Michael  looking  search- 
ingly  into  Krysia's  eyes. 

But  to  his  amazement  she  answered  with  her  habitual  calm- 
ness: 

"I  should  be  glad  but  I  cannot,  because  I  am  going  to  stay 
with  my  husband  at  Kamenets  and  will  not  leave  him  under 
any  consideration." 

"For  God's  sake!  what  do  I  hear?"  cried  Pan  Michael. 
"You  will  stay  in  the  fortress,  which  will  certainly  be  in- 
vested and  by  a  foe  that  knows  no  respect  ?  I  should  say  not  a 
'word  if  the  war  were  against  some  civilized  foe,  'but  this 
affair  is  with  barbarians.  Do  you  know  what  a  captured  city 
means,  or  what  Turkish  or  Tartar  captivity  is  ?  I  can't  be- 
lieve my  ears!" 

"Still,  it  must  be  so,"  replied  Krysia. 

"Ketling,"  cried  the  little  knight  in  desperation,  "is  ihis 
the  way  you  allow  yourself  to  be  mastered?  0  man,  have 
God  in  your  heart!" 

"We  deliberated  long,"  answered  Ketling,  "and  this  was 
the  end  of  it." 

"And  our  son  is  in  Kamenets  under  the  care  of  a  lady  rela- 
tive of  mine.  Is  it  certain  that  Kamenets  must  be  captured  ?" 

Here  Krysia  raised  her  tranquil  eyes: 

"God  is  mightier  than  the  Turk, — He  will  not  betray  our 
trust,  and,  since  I  have  sworn  not  to  leave  my  husband  till 
death,  my  place  is  by  his  side." 

The  little  knight  was  terribly  confused,  for  he  had  expected 
something  quite  different  from  Krysia. 

Basia,  who  had  seen  what  Michael  was  driving  at  from  the 
very  first,  now  laughed  knowingly.  She  fixed  her  sharp  little 
eyes  on  him  and  said: 

"Michael,  do  you  hear?" 

"Bashka,  be  quiet!"  exclaimed  the  little  knight  in  the 
greatest  confusion. 

Then  he  began  to  look  despairingly  at  Zagloba  as  if  ex- 
pecting him  to  come  to  the  rescue;  but  that  traitor  suddenly 
rose  "find  said: 

"We  must  think  of  refreshment  since  man  cannot  live  by 
words  alone." 

And  he  left  the  r<n-m. 

Pan  Michael  quickly  followed  and  stopped  hrm. 


332 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


"Well,  what  now?"  asked  Zagloba. 

"Well,  what?" 

"May  the  bullets  strike  that  Ketling  woman!  For  Heav- 
en's sake,  how  can  this  Commonwealth  help  perishing  when 
it  is  being  run  by  women?" 

"Can't  you  think  out  anything?" 

"What  can  I  think  out  for  you,  since  you  are  afraid  of 
your  wife?  Gto  to  the  blacksmith's  and  get  shod; — that's 
what." 


CHAPTER  VHI. 

The  KetlingB  stayed  for  about  three  weeks.  At  the  expira- 
tion of  that  period  Basia  tried  to  get  up,  but  she  was  not  yet 
able  to  stand  upon  her  feet.  She  had  recovered  her  health 
sooner  than  her  strength,  and  the  doctor  ordered  her  to  keep 
her  bed  till  her  full  vigor  had  returned.  Meanwhile  Spring 
began.  First  a  strong  warm  wind  coming  from  the  Wild 
Lands  and  the  Black  Sea  tore  apart  and  dissipated  the  veil  of 
clouds  like  a  garment  tattered  with  age,  and  then  began  to 
collect  and  drive  them  through  the  sky  as  a  shepherd-dog 
collects  and  drives  a  flock  of  sheep.  The  clouds,  fleeing  be- 
fore it,  frequently  drenched  the  earth  with  heavy  rain  that 
fell  in  drops  34  big  as  berries.  The  thawing  remains  of  ice 
and  snow  formed  lakes  on  the  level  steppes;  ribbons  of  water 
were  falling  from  the  cliffs;  streams  rose  in  the  bottoms  of 
the  ravines;  and  all  these  waters  were  running  with  noise,  and 
riot,  and  uproar  to  the  Dniester  as  children  run  joyfully  to 
their  mother. 

Every  now  and  then  the  sun  shone  through  the  breaks  in 
the  clouds,  gleaming  and  rejuvenated  as  though  wet  with 
bathing  in  that  universal  abyss. 

Then  vivid  green  blades  of  grass  began  to  rise  through  the 
softened  ground;  the  slender  twigs  of  the  trees  burst  into 
abundant  buds,  and  the  sun  grew  hotter.  Flocks  of  birds 
appeared  in  the  sky, — strings  of  cranes,  wild  geese,  and 
storks;  then  the  wind  began  to  bring  clouds  of  swallows;  the 
frogs  croaked  in  a  mighty  chorus  in  the  warmed  water;  the 
little  birds  were  in  riotous  song,  and  throughout  pine-woods, 
forests,  steppes,  and  ravines  sounded  one  great  cry,  as  if  all 
Nature  were  shouting  with  exultation  and  happiness: 

"Spring!  U-ha!   Spring!" 

But  for  that  unfortunate  region  Spring  brought  mourning 
instead  of  rejoicing;  death  instead  of  life.  A  few  days  after 
the  Ketlings  had  left  the  little  knight  received  the  following 
communication  from  Pan  Myslishevski: 

"On  the  plain  of  Kauchunkaury  the  hordes  gather  daily  in 

(383) 


384  PAN   MICHAEL. 

increasing  numbers.  The  Sultan  has  scut  considerable  sums 
to  the  Crimea.  The  Khan  with  a  horde  of  fifty  thousand  is 
going  to  aid  Doroshenko.  As  soon  as  the  floods  have  dried 
up  the  multitude  will  advance  by  the  Black  Trail  and  the 
Kuchman  Trail.  God  have  mercy  on  the  Commonwealth !" 

Pan  Michael  sent  Pyentka,  his  attendant,  at  once  to  the 
II  t'd nan  with  the  news. 

But  he  himself  did  not  hurry  away  from  Khreptyov.  In 
the  first  place,  as  a  soldier  he  could  not  leave  his  post  without 
the  orders  of  the  Hetman;  and  in  the  second,  he  had  been 
engaged  with  the  Tartars  for  too  many  years  not  to  know  that 
chambuls  would  not  move  so  soon.  The  waters  had  not  yet 
fallen;  the  grass  was  not  long  enough,  and  the  Cossacks  were 
still  in  winter-quarters.  The  little  knight  did  not  expect  the 
Turks  before  summer;  for,  though  they  were  already  gather- 
ing at  Adrianople,  yet  such  immense  numbers  of  troops  and 
camp-followers,  baggage,  horses,  camels,  and  buffaloes  could 
only  advance  very  slowly.  The  Tartars  might  be  expected 
earlier, — at  the  end  of  April,  or  beginning  of  May.  .  .  It  was 
true  that  in  advance  of  the  main  body,  which  numbered  tens 
of  thousands  of  warriors,  detached  chambuls  of  varying  -force 
always  fell  on  the  land,  as  single  drops  of  rain  precede  the 
great  torrent;  'but  these  the  little  knight  did  not  fear.  K"ot 
even  a  picked  Tartar  komunik  could  stand  against  the  cavalry 
of  the  Commonwealth  in  the  open  field;  and  what  could  be 
done  by  bands  which  scattered  like  dust  before  the  whirlwind 
at  the  mere  report  that  troops  were  approaching? 

There  was  time  enough  in  every  event;  and  even  if  there 
had  not  been,  Pan  Michael  would  not  have  greatly  objected 
to  a  brush  with  a  few  chambuls  in  a  way  that  would  have  been 
equally  painful  and  memorable  to  them. 

He  was  a  soldier,  blood  and  bone;  a  soldier  by  profession, 
and  so  the  approach  of  a  war  roused  his  thirst  for  the  blood 
of  the  foe  at  the  same  time  that  it  calmed  him. 

Pan  Zagloba,  although  in  the  course  of  a  long  life  inured 
to  great  peril  more  than  most  men,  was  not  so  calm.  • .  .  His 
courage  rose  in  sudden  emergencies,  and  moreover  he  had 
developed  it  by  long  practice  which  was  often  involuntary, 
and  in  his  day  he  had  gained  famous  victories;  and  yet  the 
first  tidings  of  approaching  war  always  excited  him  greatly. 
But  now  when  the  little  knight  stated  his  own  views  Zagloba 
was  somewhat  comforted  and  even  began  to  challenge  and 
threaten  the  whole  of  the  East. 


PAN  MICHAEL.  385 

"When  Christian  nations  fight  with  each  other,"  he  said, 
"the  Lord  Jesus  himself  is  grieved  and  all  the  Saints  scratch 
their  heads,  as  it  often  happens  that  when  the  master  is 
anxious  so  is  the  entire  household;  but  he  who  beats  the  Turk 
cannot  give  Heaven  sorrow.  I  have  it  from  a  certain  spiritual 
personage  that  the  Saints  simply  grow  sick  at  the  sight  of 
those  dogs;  and  therefore  they  get  no  good  from  their  spiritual 
food  and  drink,  and  even  their  eternal  happiness  is  ruined." 

"That  really  must  be  so,"  replied  the  little  knight.  "But 
the  power  of  the  Turk  is  tremendous,  and  our  troops  might 
be  contained  in  the  palm  of  your  hand." 

"But  they  will  not  conquer  the  entire  Commonwealth.  Was 
the  power  of  Carolus  Gustavus  small?  In  those  days  we  were 
at  war  with  the  Northeners,  and  the  Cossacks,  and  Kakotsi, 
and  the  Elector;  but  where  are  they  to-day?  Besides,  we  car- 
ried fire  and  sword  to  their  own  hearths." 

"That  is  true.  Personally  I  should  have  no  fear  of  this 
war,  because,  as  I  have  said,  I  must  perform  something  note- 
worthy to  repay  the  Lord  Jesus  and  the  Most  Holy  Virgin  for 
their  mercy  to  Baska;  God  only  grant  me  the  opportunity!.  .  . 
But  the  question  for  me  is  this  country,  which  may  easily  fall 
into  Infidel  hands  if  only  for  a  time.  Imagine  what  a  dese- 
cration of  God's  churches  there  would  be  and  what  oppres- 
sion of  Christian  folk!" 

"Don't  talk  to  me  of  the  Cossacks!  The  villains!  They 
raised  their  hands  against  the  Mother  and  now  let  them  get 
what  they  wanted.  The  most  important  thing  is  that  Kam- 
enets  should  make  a  successful  resistance.  What  do  you 
think,  Michael,  will  it  do  so?" 

"I  think  that  the  General  of  Podolia  has  not  properly  pro- 
visioned it,  and  also  that  the  inhabitants,  secure  in  their 
position,  have  not  done  all  they  ought.  Ketling  said  that  the 
regiments  of  Bishop  Trebitski  came  in  very  small  numbers. 
But,  by  God,  we  held  out  at  Zbraj  behind  a  mere  miseral)]'1 
trench  against  as  great  a  force,  and  so  WTC  ought  to  hold  out 
this  time,  for  that  Kamenets  is  an  eagle's  nest.  .  .  JJ 

"An  eagle's  nest  in  truth;  but  we  don't  know  whether  an 
eagle  like  Prince  Vishnyovetski  is  in  it  or  merely  a  crow.  Do 
you  know  the  General  of  Podolia  ?" 

"He  is  an  able  man  and  a  good  soldier,  but  somewhat  care- 
less." 

"I  know,  I  am  acquainted  with  him!  More  than  once  I 
have  reproached  him  with  it;  at  one  time  the  Pototskis  wanted 
26 


PI  A"   MICHAEL. 

me  to  accompany  him  abroad  for  his  education,  so  that  he 
might  learn  good  manners  from  me.  But  I  replied:  '1  won't 
go  because  of  his  carelessness,  for  he  never  has  two  tags  to 
his  boot;  he  was  presented  at  Court  in  my  boots,  and  saffian  is 
dear/  Afterwards,  in  the  days  of  Maria  Ludovika,  he  wore 
the  French  costume;  but  his  stockings  were  always  down  show- 
ing his  bare  calves.  He  will  never  reach  the  height  of  Prince 
Yeremy's  belt." 

"Then  again,  the  shopkeepers  greatly  dread  a  siege,  for 
then  trade  is  suspended.  They  would  even  prefer  to  belong 
to  the  Turks  if  only  they  could  keep  their  shops  open." 

"The  villians!"  cried  Zagloba. 

And  he  and  the  little  knight  were  greatly  troubled  about 
the  approaching  fate  of  Kamenets;  it  was  a  matter  that  per- 
sonally affected  Basia,  who,  in  case  of  capitulation,  would 
have  to  share  the  fate  of  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants. 

Presently  Zagloba  struck  his  forehead: 

"For  God's  sake,  why  are  we  fretting?  Why  should  we  go 
to  that  mangy  Kamenets  and  shut  ourselves  up  there?  Isn't 
it  better  for  you  to  remain  by  the  Herman's  side  and  serve 
against  the  enemy  in  the  field  ?  And  in  that  case  Basia  would 
not  accompany  you  to  the  squadron  and  would  have  to  go  to 
some  other  place  than  Kamenets, — somewhere  a  long  way  off, 
to  Skshetuski's  house,  for  example.  Michael,  God  looks  into 
my  heart  and  sees  how  I  long  to  go  against  the  Infidels;  but 
I  will  do  this  for  you  and  Basia, — I  will  take  her  away." 

"I  thank  you.  This  is  how  the  case  stands:  If  I  were  not 
forced  to  be  in  Kamenets,  Basia  would  not  insist;  but  what 
is  to  be  done  when  the  Hetman's  orders  arrive  ?" 

"What  is  to  be  done  when  the  orders  arrive?  May  the 
devil  tear  up  all  orders!  What  is  to  be  done?  Wait!  I  have  a 
sudden  idea.  Here  it  is:  we  must  anticipate  the  orders." 

"How  is  that?' 

"Write  at  once  to  Pan  Sobieski  as  if  sending  intelligence, 
and  end  by  saying  that  at  the  prospect  of  the  approaching  war 
you  want  to  be  beside  him  and  fight  in  the  open  on  account 
of  the  love  you  bear  him.  By  God's  wounds,  that's  a  splendid 
idea!  For,  in  the  first  place,  they  cannot  possibly  shut  up 
such  a  warrior  as  you  behind  a  wall  instead  of  making  use  of 
you;  and  in  the  second,  the  Hetman  will  love  you  the  more 
for  the  letter  and  will  want  to  have  you  near  him.  He  will 
need  trusty  soldiers  also.  .  .  Only  listen:  if  Kamenets  holds 
out  the  General  of  Podolia  will  get  the  glory;  but  what  you 


PAN   MICHAEL.  387 

accomplish  in  the  field  will  redound  to  the  fame  of  the  Het- 
man. Never  fear!  the  Hetman  will  not  give  you  up  to  the 
General.  He  would  rather  let  him  have  some  one  else;  but  he 
will  not  give  up  either  you  or  me.  Write  the  letter  and  recall 
yourself  to  his  memory.  Aha!  my  wits  are  still  worth  some- 
thing: too  good  yet  to  let  hens  peck  them  on  the  dust-heap! 
Michael,  let's  have  something  to  drink  on  it, — or  rather,  write 
the  letter  first." 

Pan  Michael  was  indeed  overjoyed;  he  embraced  Zagloba, 
and,  after  a  few  moments'  reflection  said: 

"And  by  this  I  shall  not  deceive  the  Hetman,  nor  the  Lord 
God,  nor  the  country;  for  I  shall  certainly  accomplish  a  great 
deal  in  the  field.  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart!  I  also  think 
that  the  Hetman  will  want  to  have  me  at  hand,  especially 
after  the  letter.  But  do  you  know  what  I  will  do  so  as  not 
to  desert  Kamenets?  I'll  fit  out  a  few  infantry  at  my  own 
charge  and  send  them  to  Kamenets;  I'll  write  to  the  Hetman 
about  it  at  once." 

"Better  still!    But,  Michael,  where  will  you  find  the  men?" 

"I  have  about  forty  marauders  and  prisoners  in  the  cellars 
and  I'll  take  them.  Whenever  I  ordered  any  of  them  to  be 
hanged  Basia  importuned  me  to  let  them  off;  and  more  than 
once  she  has  advised  me  to  make  soldiers  of  these  marauders. 
I  was  not  willing  because  an  example  was  needed,  but  now 
war  is  on  our  necks,  and  everything  is  admissible.  They  are 
terrible  fellows,  as  they  have  smelt  powder.  I  will  also  issue 
a  proclamation  that  whoever  will  join  the  regiment  from  the 
woods  and  ravines  shall  receive  pardon  for  former  robberies. 
There  will  be  about  a  hundred  men.  .  .  Basia  also  will  be 
pleased.  You  have  lifted  a  great  weight  from  my  heart." 

The  same  day  the  little  knight  despatched  a  fresh  messen- 
ger to  the  Hetman  and  issued  a  proclamation  of  life  and  par- 
don to  whatever  robbers  should  join  the  infantry.  They 
gladly  joined  and  promised  to  bring  in  others.  Basia  was 
highly  delighted.  Tailors  were  brought  from  Ushytsa  and 
Kamenets  and  wherever  they  could  be  procured  to  make  uni- 
forms. Pan  Michael  was  happy  at  the  thought  of  serving 
against  the  foe  in  the  field  and  not  exposing  his  wife  to  the 
perils  of  a  siege,  in  addition  to  rendering  considerable  service 
to  Kamenets  and  the  country. 

This  work  had  been  proceeding  for  some  weeks  when  one 
evening  the  messenger  returned  with  a  letter  from  Pan  Het- 
man Sobieski. 


388 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


The  Hetman  wrote  as  follows: 

"Greatly  beloved  Volodiyovski:  I  am  grateful  to  you  and 
the  fatherland  owes  you  thanks  for  sending  tidings  so  dili- 
gently. War  is  certain.  I  have  news  also  from  another  quar- 
ter that  there  is  an  immense  force  in  Kauchunkaury;  there 
will  he  three  hundred  thousand  including  the  Horde.  The 
Horde  may  march  at  any  moment.  The  Sultan  sets  more 
store  on  Kamenets  than  anything  else.  The  Lipkovs  will 
show  the  Turks  every  road  and  give  them  all  information  re- 
garding Kamenets.  I  hope  that  God  will  give  that  serpent, 
the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  into  your  hands,  or  into  those  of 
Novovyeyski,  for  whose  wrongs  I  sincerely  grieve.  As  to  your 
being  by  my  side,  God  knows  how  glad  I  should  be,  but  it  is 
impossible.  The  General  has  shown  me  many  kindnesses  since 
the  election  and  I  therefore  wish  to  send  him  the  best  soldiers, 
for  the  rock  of  Kamenets  is  to  me  as  the  pupil  of  my  eye. 
Many  will  be  there  who  have  seen  war  once  or  twice  in  their 
lives  and  are  therefore  like  men  who  have  once  or  twice  eaten 
of  some  strange  dish  and  remember  it  all  their  lives  after- 
wards; but  there  will  be  lacking  a  man  who  has  had  it  for 
his  daily  bread  and  whose  experienced  Advice  will  be  useful, 
or  if  there  is  such  a  man  he  will  not  have  sufficient  weight.  I 
will  therefore  send  you.  Although  Ketling  is  a  good  soldier 
he  is  not  so  well  known;  the  inhabitants  will  have  their  eyes 
fixed  on  you,  and  though  another  will  have  the  command  I 
think  that  men  will  readily  obey  you.  This  duty  at  Kamenets 
may  prove  dangerous,  but  we  are  accustomed  to  be  drenched 
with  the  rain  from  which  others  hide.  Glory  and  grateful 
remembrance  is  a  sufficient  reward  for  us,  but  the  principal 
consideration  is  the  country,  to  the  rescue  of  which  I  need  not 
excite  you." 

This  letter,  read  to  the  assembled  officers,  made  a  great 
impression;  for  they  all  wanted  to  serve  in  the  field  rather 
than  in  a  fortress.  Pan  Michael  bowed  his  head. 

"What  do  you  think  now,  Michael  ?"  asked  Zagloba. 

He  raised  his  face  that  was  composed  already,  and  answered 
in  accents  as  calm  as  if  his  hopes  had  not  met  with  any  dis- 
appointment: 

"I  will  go  to  Kamenets.    What  should  I  think?" 

And  it  might  have  been  supposed  that  he  had  never  had 
an  idea  of  doing  anything  else. 

Presently  his  lips  quivered  and  he  said: 

"Ah,  dear  comrades,  we  will  go  to  Kamenets,  but  we  will 
die  before  we  give  it  up." 


PAN  MICHAEL. 

"We  will  fall  there  first,"  repeated  the  officers.  "Death 
comes  only  once  to  a  man." 

For  some  time  Zagloba  was  silent;  then  glancing  around 
on  the  company  and  seeing  that  everybody  was  waiting  for 
him  to  say  something,  he  suddenly  drew  a  long  breath  and 
cried: 

"I  will  go  with  you.    The  Devil  take  it!" 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

When  the  earth  had  dried  and  the  grass  was  growing,  the 
Khan  in  person  with  fifty  thousand  of  the  Crimean  and  As- 
trachan  hordes  advanced  to  the  aid  of  Dorosh  and  the  rebel 
Cossacks.  The  Khan  himself,  the  petty  sultans,  his  relatives, 
and  all  the  more  considerable  murzas  and  beys  wore  kaftans 
presented  to  them  by  the  Pacfcshah  and  went  to  fight  the 
Commonwealth,  not  as  they  usually  did  for  spoil  and  captives, 
but  for  a  holy  war  ordered  by  fate  for  the  Destruction  of 
Poland  and  Christianity. 

A  second  and  still  greater  tempest  was  gathering  at  Adri- 
anople,  and  against  this  deluge  the  rock  of  Kamenets  only 
held  its  head  erect,  for  the  remainder  of  the  Commonwealth 
lay  like  an  open  steppe,  or  a  sick  man  powerless  to  help  him- 
self or  even  stand  up  on  his  feet.  The  previous  Swedish, 
Prussian,  Muscovan,  Cossack,  and  Hungarian  wars,  though 
in  the  end  victorious,  had  exhausted  the  Commonwealth. 
The  military  confederations  and  the  rebellion  of  Lubomirski 
of  infamous  memory,  had  exhausted  it,  and  now  it  was  utterly 
weakened  by  Court  quarrels,  the  king's  incapacity,  the  feuds 
of  the  rich,  the  blindness  of  a  worthless  nobility,  and  the 
peril  of  civil  strife.  In  vain  were  the  great  Sobieski's  warn- 
ings of  approaching  ruin,  nobody  would  believe  in  war.  They 
neglected  all  measures  of  defence;  the  treasury  was  empty 
and  the  Hetman  had  no  troops.  He  could  barely  oppose  a 
few  thousand  troops  to  a  power  against  which  an  alliance  of 
all  the  nations  of  Christendom  could  scarcely  stand. 

Meanwhile  it  was  entirely  different  in  the  Orient.  There 
everything  was  done  according  to  the  will  of  the  Padishah 
and  various  nations  were  like  a  sword  in  the  hand  of  one 
man.  From  the  moment  when  the  great  banner  of  the 
Prophet  was  unfurled  and  the  horse-tail  standard  set  up  on 
the  gate  of  the  seraglio  and  tower  of  the  seraskierat,  and  the 
ulemas  began  to  preach  a  holy  war,  half  of  Asia  and  the 
whole  of  Northern  Africa  was  in  a  ferment.  In  the  Spring 
the  Padishah  himself  had  taken  his  station  on  the  plain  of 
(390) 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


391 


Kauchunkaury  and  was  collecting  greater  forces  than  had  been 
seen  on  earth  for  a  long  time.  A  hundred  thousand  spahis 
and  janissaries,  the  flower  of  the  Turkish  army  were  near 
his  sacred  person,  and  then  forces  began  to  gather  from  all 
his  most  distant  lands  and  posessessions.  The  first  to  arrive 
were  those  Who  dwelt  in  Europe.  The  legions  of  the  mounted 
Beys  of  Bosnia  came  hued  like  the  dawn  and  furious  as  light- 
ning; the  wild  infantry  of  Albania  came  with  their  daggers; 
there  came  also  Serbs  who  had  turned  Turk,  and  people  who 
dwelt  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube,  and  lower  beyond  the 
Balkans,  and  farther  still  among  the  mountains  of  Greece. 
Each  pasha  led  a  whole  army  which  was  alone  sufficient  to 
overrun  4he  defenceless  Commonwealth.  There  were  Mol- 
davians, and  Wallachiaais,  and  Tartars  in  force  from  the 
Dobrudja  and  Byalogrod,  and  some  thousands  of  Lipkova 
and  Oheremis,  led  by  the  terrible  Azya,  son  of  Tukhay  Bey, 
and  these  were  to  act  as  guides  through  the  unfortunate 
country  with  which  they  were  well  acquainted. 

Next  the  general  levies  from  Asia  began  to  arrive.  The 
pashas  of  Sivas,  Broussa,  Aleppo,  Damascus,  and  Bagdad,  in 
addition  to  their  regular  troops,  led  armed  mobs  beginning 
with  the  wild  men  from  the  cedar-covered  moutains  of  Asia 
Minor  and  ending  with  the  swarthy  dwellers  on  the  banks  of 
the  Euphrates  and  Tigris.  At  the  call  of  the  Oaliph,  Ara- 
bians also  rose;  their  burnooses  covered  the  plains  of  Kau- 
chunkaury like  snow;  among  them  also  were  nomads  from 
the  sandy  deserts  and  people  of  the  cities  from  Medina  to 
Mecca.  The  tributary  power  of  Egypt  did  not  remain  at 
home.  Those  who  lived  in  populous  Cairo,  or  in  the  even- 
ing gazed  on  the  pyramids  in  the  blaze  of  the  sunset,  or 
wandered  among  the  ruins  of  Thebes,  or  dwelt  in  the  gloomy 
region  where  the  sacred  Nile  has  its  source,  men,  burned 
to  the  hue  of  soot  by  the  sun, — all  these  planted  their  arms 
in  the  soil  of  Adrian ople  praying  every  evening  for  victory 
to  Islam  and  destruction  to  that  land  which  single-handed 
for  ages  had  protected  the  rest  of  the  world  from  the  followers 
of  the  Prophet. 

There  were  multitudes  of  armed  men,  hundreds  of  thous- 
ands of  horses  were  neighing  on  the  plain;  hundreds  of  thous- 
ands of  buffaloes,  sheep  and  camels  were  feeding  beside  the 
herds  of  horses.  It  might  have  been  imagined  that  by  God's 
command  an  angel  had  turned  mankind  out  of  Asia  as  he 
had  once  turned  Adam  out  of  Paradise  and  ordered  them  to 


392  PAX  MICHAEL. 

seek  lands  where  the  sun  was  not  so  bright  and  in  winter 
the  steppes  were  covered  with  snow.  They  went  therefore 
with  their  herds, — a  countless  swarm  of  white,  swarthy,  and 
black  warriors.  What  numbers  of  tongues  were  heard  there, 
what  a  number  of  various  costumes  glittered  in  the  Spring 
sun!  Nation  marvelled  at  nation;  to  some  the  customs  of 
others  were  entirely  foreign,  their  weapons  unknown,  their 
ways  of  warfare  different,  and  a  common  faith  was  the  sole 
bond  between  these  nomads;  only  when  the  muezzins  called 
to  prayer  did  these  many-tongued  hosts  turn  their  faces 
towards  the  East  and  call  upon  Allah  with  one  voice. 

The  Sultan's  court  had  more  servants  than  the  Common- 
wealth had  troops.  Behind  the  army  and  armed  bodies  of 
volunteers  came  crowds  of  traders  selling  all  kinds  of  mer- 
chandise; their  wagons,  together  with  those  of  the  host, 
flowed  along  like  a  mighty  river. 

Two  pashas  of  three  tails  commanding  two  armies  had 
to  supply  these  swarms  of  people  with  food  as  their  sole  task; 
and  there  was  plenty  of  everything.  The  sandjak  Sangrytan 
looked  after  the  entire  supply  of  powder.  Two  hundred  can- 
non accompanied  the  army,  and  ten  of  these  were  siege-guns 
of  such  size  that  no  Christian  king  possesed  the  like.  The 
Beglerbeys  of  Asia  occupied  the  right  wing  and  the  Euro- 
peans the  left.  The  tents  took  up  so  much  ground  that 
Adrianople  seemed  a  small  city  in  comparison.  The  Sultan's 
tents,  brilliant  with  purple,  silken  cords,  satin,  and  gold  em- 
broidery formed  a  kind  of  city  by  itself.  In  their  midst 
thronged  armed  guards;  black  Abyssinian  eunuchs  in  yellow 
and  blue  kaftans;  gigantic  porters  from  the  tribes  of  Kur- 
distan to  carry  burdens;  Uzbek  youths,  with  faces  of  exceed- 
ing beauty  shaded  by  silken  fringes;  and  many  other  ser- 
vants with  colors  as  mottled  and  variegated  as  the  flowers 
on  the  steppes.  Some  acted  as  equerries,  some  served  at 
table,  some  carried  lamps,  and  others  occupied  thejnost  im- 
portant offices  at  court. 

On  the  great  square  around  the  Sultan's  court,  which  in 
its  luxury  and  splendor  reminded  the  faithful  of  the  pro- 
mised Paradise,  were  other  courts,  not  so  sumptuous  but 
still  equal  to  those  of  kings, — the  courts  of  the  vizier,  the 
ulemas,  the  pasha  of  Anatolia,  and  of  the  young  kaimakan 
Black  Mustafa,  upon  whom  the  eyes  of  the  Sultan  and  all 
were  turned  as  the  coming  "Sun  of  War." 

In  front  of  the  pavillions  of  the  Padishah  were  to  be  seen 


PAN  MICHAEL.  393 

the  sacred  infantry  guard  with  such  high  turbans  that  they 
made  their  wearers  look  like  giants.  They  were  armed  with 
javelins  attached  to  long  stall's,  and  with  short  crooked 
swords.  Their  linen  tents  adjoined  the  abode  of  the  Sultan. 
Further  away  were  the  camps  of  the  formidable  janissaries, 
armed  with  muskets  and  lances,  and  forming  the  kernel  of 
the  Turkish  army.  Neither  the  Emperor  of  Germany  nor 
the  King  of  France  could  boast  of  infantry  of  such  numbers 
and  military  dexterity  In  wars  against  the  Commonwealth 
the  Sultan's  people  were  generally  weaker  and  could  not 
measure  their  strength  with  an  equal  force  of  cavalry  and 
only  crushed  and  conquered  with  their  immense  superiority 
of  numbers.  But  the  janissaries  even  dared  to  stand  against 
regular  squadrons.  They  excited  terror  throughout  Christ- 
endom,— even  in  Tsarogrod  itself.  Often  the  Sultan  himself 
trembled  before  such  pretorians,  and  the  chief  aga  of  these 
'lambs'  was  one  of  the  most  important  dignitaries  in  the 
Divan. 

Next  to  the  janissaries  came  the  spahis,  and  then  the 
regular  troops  of  the  pashas,  and  lastly  the  common  crowd. 
For  some  months  this  whole  camp  had  lain  near  Constanti- 
nople waiting  till  its  force  should  be  completed  by  legions 
from  the  remotest  parts  of  the  Turkish  dominions  and  till 
the  Spring  sun  should  facilitate  the  march  to  Poland  by 
sucking  up  the  moisture  from  the  earth. 

The  sun  had  shone  brightly  as  though  subject  to  the  Sul- 
tan's will.  From  the  beginning  of  April  until  May  scarcely 
even  a  few  warm  showers  had  moistened  the  fields  of  Kau- 
chunkaury;  for  the  rest,  God's  blue  pavilion  hung  cloudless 
above  the  Sultan's  tent.  The  brightness  of  day  shone  on 
the  white  linen  and  turbans  and  many-colored  caps  and  on 
the  points  of  the  helmets  and  standards  and  javelins,  on  the 
camp  and  tents  and  people  and  herds,  flooding  all. 

In  a  clear  sky  in  the  evening  the  moon  shone  unclouded 
by  mist  and  quietly  watching  over  the  thousands  who  were 
marching  to  conquer  more  and  new  lands  under  its  emblem; 
then  it  rose  higher  in  the  sky  and  paled  before  the  light 
of  the  fires.  But  when  the  fires  blazed  throughout  the  great 
plain,  and  the  Arab  infantry  from  Damascus  and  Aleppo, 
called  'massala  djilari,'  lit  the  green,  red,  yellow,  and  blue 
lamps  at  the  tents  of  the  Sultan  and  Vizir,  it  looked  as 
though  a  portion  of  the  sky  had  fallen  t«  the  earth  and  that 
they  were  stars  sparkling  and  twinkling  on  the  plain. 


394  PAN   MICHAEL. 

The  most  perfect  order  and  discipline  reigned  among  those 
hosts.  The  pashas  bowed  to  the  will  of  the  Sultan  like  a 
reed  to  the  storm,  and  the  army  bowed  before  them.  There 
was  no  lack  of  food  for  man  and  'beast.  Everything  was 
served  in  the  utmost  plenty  at  the  proper  season.  In  the 
most  perfect  order  also  were  spent  the  hours  of  military  prac- 
,  tice,  pastime,  and  devotion.  When  the  muezzins  summoned 
f  to  prayer  from  the  hastily-built  wooden  structures,  the  whole 
army  turned  their  faces  to  the  East,  every  man  spread  a  skin 
or  mat  before  him,  and  the  entire  host  fell  upon  its  knees 
like  one  man.  At  the  sight  of  that  order  and  restaint  their 
hearts  rose  in  triumph  and  their  souls  were  filled  with  the 
sure  hope  of  triumph. 

The  Sultan  arived  at  the  camp  at  the  end  of  April,  but 
did  not  begin  the  march  immediately.  He  waited  more  than 
a  month  to  allow  the  waters  to  dry  up  and  employed  the 
interval  in  training  the  host  to  camp  life,  in  organization 
and  exercises  and  receiving  ambassadors  and  dispensing  jus- 
tice under  a  purple  'baldaquin.  His  principal  wife,  the 
kasseka,  accompanied  him  on  this  expedition,  and  with  her 
also  went  a  court  as  marvellous  as  a  dream  of  Paradise. 

The  lady  was  borne  in  a  gilded  chariot  with  a  canopy 
of  purple  taffeta  and  it  was  followed  by  other  cars  and 
white  Syrian  camels  carrying  packs  and  also  covered  with 
purple.  Houris  and  bayaderas  sang  songs  along  the  way. 
When  she  was  weary  from  travel  and  closed  her  silken  lashes, 
immediately  the  sweet  strains  of  soft  music  arose  and  lulled 
her  to  sleep.  During  the  heat  of  the  day  fans  of  peacock 
and  ostrich  feathers  waved  above  her,  and  before  her  tent 
priceless  perfumes  of  the  East  were  burned  in  Indian  bowls. 
She  was  surrounded  by  all  the  treasures,  luxuries,  and  riches 
that  could  be  supplied  by  the  Orient  and  the  Sultan's  power; 
— houris,  bayaderes,  black  eunuchs,  pages  beautiful  as  angels, 
Syrian  camels,  horses  from  the  Arabian  desert;  in  short  her 
I  whole  train  glittered  with  brocade  and  sumptuous  stuffs  and 
;  gleamed  like  a  rainbow  with  diamonds,  rubies,  emeralds,  and 
sapphires.  Nations  fell  upon  their  faces  before  it,  not  daring 
to  gaze  upon  that  countenance  which  the  Padishah  alone 
had  the  right  to  see;  and  that  train  seemed  to  be  either  a 
supernatural  vision  or  else  a  reality  transferred  from  the 
realm  of  visions  and  illusive  dreams  by  Allah  himself. 

But  the  sun  warmed  the  earth  more  and  more  till  at  length 
the  hot  days  arrived.  Therefore  one  evening  the  banner 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


395 


was  raised  on  a  tall  pole  in  front  of  the  Sultan's  tent  and 
a  cannon-shot  announced  the  march  to  Poland  to  the  army 
and  people.  The  great  sacred  benben  sounded  and  then  all 
the  others  were  beaten;  the  shrill  tones  of  the  pipes  were 
heard,  the  pious,  half-nude  dervishes  began  to  howl,  and 
the  stream  of  people  moved  forward  in  the  night  to  escape 
the  sun's  heat  during  the  day.  But  the  army  itself  was 
not  to  start  till  some  hours  after  the  first  notice.  First  of 
all  went  the  vanguard,  and  then  the  pashas  who  supplied 
the  troops  with  food,  and  then  whole  legions  of  laborers  to 
pitch  tents;  then  came  herds  of  pack-animals,  and  then  the 
herds  to  be  slaughtered.  The  march  was  to  be  one  of  six 
hours  on  that  .and  all  following  nights,  and  was  to  keep  such 
order  that  when  the  soldiers  halted  they  should  always  be 
assured  of  food  and  a  resting-place  made  ready. 

At  last,  when  the  moment  arrived  for  the  soldiers  to  ad- 
vance, the  Sultan  rode  out  to  an  eminence  to  view  his  whole 
force  and  delight  in  the  sight.  With  him  were  his  vizir,  the 
ulemas,  the  young  kaimakan,  Black  Mustafa,  the  Eising 
Sun  of  War,  and  a  guard  of  his  infantry.  It  was  a  tranquil 
and  bright  night,  clear  with  bright  moonlight,  so  that  the 
Sultan  might  have  seen  all  his  legions  had  it  not  been  that 
no  single  human  vision  could  have  grasped  them  all  at  once, 
for  when  they  were  marching,  though  closely  arrayed,  they 
extended  several  miles.  • 

Yet  his  heart  rejoiced  and,  runnning  his  sandal-wood 
scented  beads  through  his  fingers,  he  raised  his  eyes  to 
Heaven  and  gave  thanks  to  Allah  who  had  made  him  lord 
over  so  many  armies  and  so  many  lands.  Suddenly  when  the 
head  of  the  vanguard  had  almost  disappeared  he  suspended 
his  prayer  and  turned  to  the  young  kaimakan,  Black  Mus- 
tafa, saying: 

"I  have  forgotten,  who  form  the  vanguard?" 

"Light  of  Paradise!"  replied  Black  Mustafa,  "in  the  van- 
guard are  the  Lipkovs  and  the  Cheremis;  and  the  dog  Azya, 
the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  is  leading  them/' 


CHAPTEE  X. 

Azya,  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  was  indeed  marching  with 
his  men  at  the  head  of  the  whole  Turkish  force  towards  the 
border  of  the  Commonwealth  after  the  long  wait  on  the  plain 
of  Kauchunkaury. 

After  the  terrible  blow  that  he  had  received  in  his  plans 
and  person  from  Basia's  dexterous  hand,  a  happy  star  now 
seemed  to  shine  on  him  afresh.  In  the  first  place  he  had  re- 
covered his  health.  His  comeliness  it  is  true  was  for  ever 
destroyed;  one  eye  had  entirely  flowed  away,  his  nose  was 
mashed  and  his  face,  which  was  once  like  that  of  a  falcon,  had 
become  monstrous  and  horrible.  But  that  very  terror  with 
which  it  inspired  people  gained  greater  consideration  for  him 
among  the  Dobrudja  Tartars.  His  presence  made  a  great  stir 
in  the  whole  camp;  his  deeds  grew  in  the  tales  people  told  of 
him  and  assumed  gigantic  proportions.  It  was  said  that  he 
had  brought  all  the  Lipkov  and  Cheremi  Tartars  into  the 
service  of  the  Sultan;  that  he  had  got  the  best  of  the  Poles  as 
nobody  else  had  ever  done;  that  he  had  burned  all  the  towns 
along  the  Dniester  and  slaughtered  their  garrisons  and  taken 
important  booty.  Those  who  were  now  marching  to  Poland 
for  the  first  time,  those  who  had  come  from  far  regions  of  the 
East  and  had  not  yet  tried  the  Polish  arms,  those  whose 
hearts  quaked  at  the  thought  of  soon  standing  face  to  face 
with  the  terrible  cavalry  of  the  unbelievers,  saw  in  the  young 
Azya  a  warrior  who  had  already  shown  his  brow  to  the  Poles 
and  was  not  afraid  of  them  and  above  all  had  made  a  fortunate 
beginning  of  war.  The  sight  of  the  'bagadir*  immediately 
filled  their  souls  with  comfort;  moreover  Azya  was  the  son  of 
that  terrible  Tukhay  Bey  whose  name  had  reverberated 
through  the  whole  of  the  East;  and  so  all  eyes  turned  on  him 
the  more. 

"The  Poles  brought  him  up,"  they  said,  "but  he  is  the  son 
of  a  lion;  he  bit  them,  and  returned  to  the  service  of  the 
Padishah  " 

.The  vizir  himself  wanted  to  see  him,  and  the  "Bising  Sun 

(396) 


PAN   MICHAEL.  397 

of  War,"  the  young  kaimakan,  Black  Mustafa,  who  delighted 
in  military  glory  and  wild  warriors,  loved  him.  Both  of 
them  made  close  inquiry  regarding  the  Commonwealth,  the 
Hetman,  the  armies,  and  Kamenets,  and  were  happy  at  his 
answers,  for  they  saw  that  the  war  would  be  easy:  victory  to 
the  Sultan,  defeat  to  the  Poles  and  the  title  of  Ghazi  (con- 
queror) to  both.  Therefore  Azya  would  have  frequently  op- 
portunities to  fall  on  his  face  before  the  vizir  and  to  sit  at 
the  entrance  of  the  kaimakan's  tent  and  receive  from  both 
many  gifts  of  camels,  horses,  and  weapons. 

The  grand  vizir  presented  him  with  a  kaftan  of  silver  bro- 
cade, the  possession  of  which  elevated  him  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Lipkov  and  Cheremi  Tartars.  Krychinski,  Adurovich,  Mo- 
ravski,  Grokholski,  Tarasovski,  Aleksandrovich,— in  short  all 
the  leaders  who  had  once  lived  in  the  Commonwealth  and 
served  it,  but  had  now  gone  over  to  the  Sultan, — unquestion- 
ingly  placed  themselves  under  the  command  of  the  son  of 
Tukhay  Bey,  honoring  him  both  as  a  prince  by  birth  and  a 
warrior  who  had  received  a  kaftan.  He  therefore  became  a 
powerful  murza  and  more  than  two  thousand  warriors,  who 
were  far  superior  to  the  average  Tartars,  obeyed  his  nod. 
The  coming  war,  in  which  it  would  be  easier  for  the  young 
murza  than  anyone  else  to  distinguish  himself,  might  carry 
him  high:  in  it  he  might  find  high  dignity,  glory,  and  power. 

But  yet  there  was  poison  in  Azya's  soul.  In  the  first  place, 
his  pride  was  hurt  that  the  Tartars  in  the  presence  of  the 
Turks,  and  especially  of  the  janissaries  and  spahis,  were  of 
little  more  importance  than  dogs  in  comparison  with  hunters. 
He  himself  was  of  importance,  but  the  Tartars  generally  were 
regarded  as  worthless  horsemen.  The  Turk  made  use  of 
them  and  sometimes  he  feared  them;  but  in  the  camp  he  de- 
spised them.  When  Azya  saw  this  he  kept  his  men  apart 
from  the  general  mass  of  Tartars  as  if  they  were  a  distinct 
and  better  kind  of  army,  but  by  so  doing  he  immediately  ex- 
cited the  resentment  of  the  Dobrudja  and  Byalogrod  murzas, 
and  did  not  succeed  in  convincing  the  Turkish  officers  that  the 
Lipkovs  were  in  reality  any  better  than  the  chambuls  of  the 
Horde.  On  the  other  hand,  as  he  had  been  brought  up  in  a 
Christian  land  among  nobles  and  knights,  he  could  not 
readily  accustom  himself  to  Oriental  customs.  In  the  Com- 
monwealth he  had  only  been  an  ordinary  officer  in  the  lowest 
arm  of  the  service;  but  yet,  when  he  had  come  in  contact  with 
his  superiors,  and  even  the  Hetman,  he  had  not  been  forced 


398  PAN   MICHAKL. 

to  humble  himself  as  here  where  he  was  a  irmrza  and  the 
leader  of  all  the  bodies  of  Lipkov  Tartars.  Here  he  had  to 
prostrate  himself  before  the  vizir;  he  had  to  bow  his  forehead 
to  the  earth  in  the  friendly  tent  of  the  kaimakan;  he  had  to 
bow  down  before  the  pashas,  the  ulemas,  the  chief  Aga  of  the 
janissaries.  Azya  was  not  accustomed  to  this.  He  remeni- 

I  bered  -that  he  was  the  son  of  a  hero;  he  had  a  wild  and 
haughty  spirit,  aiming  high  as  eagles  aim,  and  therefore  he 
suffered  grievously. 

But  the  memory  of  Basia  burned  him  with  the  fiercest  fire. 
He  did  not  care  that  one  feeble  hand  should  have  dashed 
from  his  horse  him,  who,  at  Bratslav,  at  Kalnik,  and  a  hun- 
dred other  places,  had  challenged  to  the  combat  and  extended 
in  death  the  most  terrible  raiders  of  the  Zaporoj;  and  he 
cared  less  for  the  shame  and  humiliation.  But  he  loved  that 
woman  beyond  all  bounds;  he  wanted  her  in  his  tent,  to  gaze 
upon  her,  to  beat  her  and  to  kiss  her.  If  he  had  the  choice- 
between  being  the  Padishah  and  ruling  half  the  world,  or 
taking  her  in  his  arms  and  feeling  the  heat  of  her  blood  on 
his  heart,  her  breath  on  his  face,  and  her  lips  on  his,  he  would 
rather  have  her  than  Tsarogrod,  the  Bosphorus,  or  the  title  of 
Khalif.  He  wanted  her  because  he  both  loved  and  hated  her. 
The  farther  removed  she  was  from  him,  the  more  he  wanted 
her;  the  more  pure,  faithful,  and  unspotted  she  was,  the  more 
he  wanted  her.  On  more  than  one  occasion  in  his  tent  when 
he  remembered  how  that  once  in  his  life  he  had  kissed  those 
eyes  in  the  gulley  after  the  fight  with  Azba  Bey,  and  that  he 
had  felt  her  breast  against  his  at  Rashkov,  he  was  carried 
away  by  the  madness  of  desire.  He  knew  not  what  had  be- 
come of  her,  nor  if  she  had  perished  on  the  road.  Sometimes 
he  was  comforted  by  the  thought  that  she  had  died  and  some- 
times deep  grief  took  hold  of  him.  There  were  moments 
when  he  thought:  "It  would  have  been  better  not  to  have 

'  carried  her  off,  burned  Rashkov,  and  come  here;  but  to  have 
stayed  at  Khreptyov  with  the  Lipkovs,  if  only  to  look  at  her." 
But  the  unfortunate  Zosia  Boska  was  in  his  tent.  Her 
days  were  passed  in  slavery,  in  shame,  and  in  constant  terror; 
for  there  was  not  a  grain  of  pity  -for  her  in  Azya's  heart.  He 
tortured  her  simply  because  she  was  not  Basia.  Nevertheless 
she  possessed  the  charm  and  sweetness  of  a  wild-flower;  she 
possessed  youth  and  beauty  and  therefore  he  sated  himself 
with  that  beauty,  but  he  kicked  her  on  the  slightest  provo- 
cation and  flogged  her  white  body  with  rods.  She  could  not 


TAN  MICHAEL.  399 

live  in  a  worse  hell,  for  she  lived  without  hope.  Life  had 
begun  to  blossom  for  her  in  Kashkov, — to  blossom  like 
Spring,  with  the  flower  of  love  for  Novovyeyski.  She  loved 
him  with  her  whole  soul;  with  every  faculty  she  lov^d  that 
knightly,  noble  and  honest  nature;  and  now  she  was  the  play- 
thing and  captive  of  this  one-eyed  monster.  She  had  to 
crawl  to  his  feet  and  cower  like  a  beaten  dog,  gaze  into  his 
face,  and  watch  his  hands  to  see  if  they  were  about  to  seize 
a  rod  or  whip:  she  had  to  repress  her  sighs  and  tears. 

She  well  knew  that  there  was  and  could  be  no  mercy  for 
her;  for  even  if  a  miracle  were  to  wrest  her  from  those  ter- 
rible hands,  she  was  no  longer  the  old  Zosia,  white  as  the  first 
snows,  and  able  to  give  love  for  love  with  an  unsullied  heart. 
All  that  had  gone  never  to  return.  But  because  the  horrible 
degradation  of  her  present  life  was  not  the  consequence  of  the 
slightest  fault  of  her  own; — far  from  it; — she  had  hitherto 
been  a  maiden  stainless  as  a  lamb,  innocent  as  a  dove,  and 
trusting  as  a  child,  simple  and  loving, — therefore  she  could 
not  understand  why  such  awful  injustice  should  be  visited 
upon  her,  an  injustice  for  which  no  recompence  could  be 
made;  or  why  God's  inexorable  wrath  lay  so  heavy  upon  her; 
and  this  distraction  of  her  soul  increased  her  agony  and 
despair. 

Thus  passed  days,  weeks,  and  months.  It  was  winter  when 
Azya  came  to  the  plain  of  Kauchunkaury,  and  the  march  to 
the  borders  of  the  Commonwealth  did  not  begin  till  June. 
The  whole  of  this  time  for  Zosia  was  one  of  shame,  toil,  and 
anguish.  For  notwithstanding  all  her  beauty  and  sweetness, 
and  although  he  kept  her  in  his  tent,  Az}ra  not  only  did  not 
love  her,  but  on  the  contrary  he  hated  her  because  she  was 
not  Basia.  He  regarded  her  as  a  common  captive  and  made 
her  work  like  one.  She  watered  his  horses  and  camels  at 
the  river,  carried  water  for  his  ablutions  and  wood  for  the 
fire;  she  spread  the  skins  for  his  bed  and  cooked  his  food.  In 
other  divisions  of  the  Turkish  army  women  did  not  leave  the 
tents  for  fear  of  the  janissaries  and  from  custom;  but  the 
camp  of  the  Lipkov  Tartars  stood  apart  by  itself  and  the  cus- 
tom of  keeping  their  women  in  concealment  was  not  common 
with  them,  as  they  had  become  used  to  other  ways  while  living 
in  the  Commonwealth.  What  captives  belonged  to  the  com- 
mon soldiers  did  not  even  cover  their  faces  with  yashmaks. 
It  is  true  that  the  women  were  not  allowed  to  go  outside  the 
Lipkov  square,  for  beyond  the  bounds  they  would  have  cer- 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

tainly  been  carried  off;  hut  they  could  go  everywhere  in  the 
square  itself  about  their  domestic  occupations  in  safety. 

Notwithstanding  the  heavy  labor,  Zosia  found  a  certain  re- 
lief in  going  for  wood,  or  down  to  the  river  to  water  the 
horses  and  camels;  for  she  was  afraid  to  weep  in  the  tent,  and 
she  could  give  free  course  to  her  tears  with  impunity  along 
the  way.  On  one  occasion  while  carrying  an  armful  of  wood 
she  met  her  mother,  whom  Azya  had  given  to  Halim.  They 
fell  into  each  other's  arms  and  it  was  necessary  to  tear  them 
apart;  and  though  Azya  afterwards  flogged  Zosia  with  rods, 
not  even  sparing  her  head,  still  the  meeting  was  sweet  to  her. 
On  another  occasion,  while  washing  linen  for  Azya  at  the 
ford,  Zosia  saw  Evka  in  the  distance  carrying  pails  of  water. 
Evka  was  groaning  under  their  weight;  her  figure  had  greatly 
altered  and  become  heavier,  but  her  features,  although  shaded 
by  the  yaskmak,  reminded  Zosia  of  Adam,  and  her  heart  was 
seized  with  such  anguish  that  she  felt  a  passing  faintness. 
However,  they  were  afraid  to  speak  to  each  other. 

This  fear  gradually  numbed  and  overcame  every  other 
feeling  in  Zosia,  till  at  last  it  supplanted  all  her  desires,  hopes, 
and  memories.  Not  to  be  beaten  had  become  her  chief  aim. 
In  her  place  Basia  would  have  slain  Azya  with  his  own  knife 
on  the  first  day  without  any  thought  of  the  consequences;  but 
the  timid  Zosia  who  was  still  half  a  child  and  did  not  possess 
Basia' s  courage.  At  last  she  even  came  to  regard  it  as  tender- 
ness if  the  terrible  Azya  under  the  impulse  of  momentary  de- 
sire approached  her  lips  with  his  deformed  face.  Sitting  in 
the  tent  she  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  her  master  in  the  effort  to 
divine  whether  or  not  he  was  angry,  following  his  movements, 
and  trying  to  anticipate  his  wishes. 

When  she  foresaw  trouble  and  when  his  teeth  began  to 
gleam  beneath  his  moustache  like  the  old  Tukhay  Bey,  she 
crawled  to  his  feet  half  dead  with  terror  and  pressed  her  pale 
lips  to  his  boots,  and  embraced  his  knees  convulsively,  crying 
like  a  child  in  distress: 

"Don't  beat  me,  Azya!  don't  beat  me!" 

He  scarcely  ever  spared  her;  he  gloated  over  her,  not  only 
because  she  was  not  Basia,  but  also  because  she  had  been 
Novovyeyski's  betrothed.  Azya  had  a  fearless  spirit,  but  so 
awful  were  the  accounts  to  be  settled  between  him  and  Pan 
Adam  that  at  the  thought  of  that  giant  with  hellish  venge- 
ance hardened  in  his  heart,  the  young  Lipkov  was  seized  with 
a  certain  uneasiness.  There  was  to  be  war;  they  might  meet; 


PAN  MICHAEL.  4OI 

indeed,  it  was  probable  that  they  would.  Azya  could  not 
help  thinking  of  this,  and  because  the  sight  of  Zosia  prompted 
the  thoughts,  he  revenged  himself  upon  her  as  if  trying  to 
banish  his  own  dread  with  the  strokes  of  rods. 

At  length  came  the  time  when  the  Sultan  gave  the  order  to 
march.  Azya's  Lipkovs  were  to  form  the  vanguard  followed 
by  the  whole  swarm  of  Dobrudja  and  Novogorod  Tartars. 
That  had  been  arranged  between  the  Sultan,  the  vizir,  and 
the  kaimakan.  But  at  first  all  went  to  the  Balkans  together. 
The  march  was  pleasant,  for,  on  account  of  the  increasing 
heat,  they  marched  only  at  night,  with  six  hours  between  the 
halts.  Tar-barrels  were  lighted  along  the  way  and  the 
massaldjirals  illuminated  the  road  for  the  Sultan  with  colored 
lights.  The  swarms  of  people  flowed  on  like  waves  over  limit- 
less plains,  filled  the  hollows  of  the  valleys  like  locusts,  and 
covered  the  mountains.  The  armed  men  were  followed  by 
the  camp-followers  with  the  harems  and  then  came  innumer- 
able herds. 

But  in  the  marshes  at  the  foot  of  the  Balkans  the  gilded 
and  purple  car  of  the  kasseka  was  so  deeply  bogged  that 
twenty  buffaloes  were  unable  to  extricate  it  from  the  mud. 
"That  is  an  evil  omen  for  thee  and  the  whole  army,  Lord," 
said  the  chief  mufti  to  the  Sultan.  "An  evil  omen!"  repeated 
the  half-crazed  dervishes  in  the  camp.  The  Sultan  was 
alarmed  and  decided  to  send  away  all  the  women  with  the 
wondrous  kasseka. 

The  order  was  announced  to  the  hosts.  Those  soldiers 
who  had  nowhere  to  send  their  slaves,  and  loved  them  too 
well  to  sell  them  to  strangers,  preferred  to  kill  them.  Thou- 
sands of  others  were  bought  by  the  merchants  of  the  cara- 
vanserai to  be  afterwards  sold  in  the  markets  of  Stambul  and 
all  the  towns  of  Hither  Asia.  A  sort  of  great  fair  lasted  for 
three  successive  days.  Azya  unhesitatingly  offered  Zosia  for 
sale:  a  wealthy  old  merchant  of  Stambul  bought  her  for  a 
great  price  for  his  son. 

He  was  a  good-natured  man,  for  at  Zosia's  tears  and  en- 
treaties he  purchased  her  mother  from  Halim;  it  is  true  that 
he  got  her  dirt-cheap.  The  following  day  they  both  set  out 
for  Stambul  in  line  with  the  other  women.  In  Stambul 
Zosia's  lot  was  improved,  though  her  degradation  still  en- 
dured. Her  new  owner  loved  her  and  in  a  few  months  raised 
her  to  the  dignity  of  a  wife.  Thenceforth  her  mother  was 
not  separated  from  her. 
26 


402 


PAN   MfCHAEL. 


Many  people  among  whom  were  many  women  returned  to 
their  native  land  after  a  long  captivity.  Moreover  somebody, 
by  every  possible  means,  by  the  medium  of  Armenian  and 
Greek  merchants  and  the  servants  of  the  ambassadors  of  the 
Commonwealth,  had  search  made  for  Zosia,  but  without  re- 
sult. Then  this  search  suddenly  ceased  and  Zosia  never 
again  saw  her  country,  nor  the  faces  of  her  dear  ones. 

She  lived  till  her  death  in  a  harem. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Even  before  the  Turks  had  moved  from  Adrianople  there 
was  a  beginning  of  great  commotion  in  all  the  stanitsas1 
along  the  Dniester.  Especially  to  Khreptyov,  the  nearest 
stanitsa  to  Kamenets,  the  Hetman7  s  couriers  were  continually 
hurrying  with  various  orders;  if  they  concerned  him,  the  lit- 
tle knight  executed  them  himself,  andif  ^o:heforwardedthem 
by  trusty  agents.  The  result  of  these  orders  vas  considerably 
to  weaken  the  garrison  of  Khreptyov.  Pan  M'otovidlo  with 
his  Semenovs  went  to  Uman  to  aid  Hanenkc  who,  with  a 
handful  of  Cossacks  faithful  to  the  Commonwealth,  was  doing 
his  beet  against  Doroshenko  and  the  Crimean  horde  which 
had  joined  him.  Pan  Mushalski  the  matchless  archer,  Pan 
Snitko  of  the  Hidden  Moon  escutcheon,  Pan  Nyenashinyets, 
and  Pan  Hromyka  led  a  squadron,  together  Linkhaus's  dra- 
goons, to  Batch  of  unhappy  memory,  where  Pan  Lujetski  was 
posted  to  watch  Doroshenko's  movements  with  the  assistance 
of  Hanenko;  Pan  Bogush  was  commanded  to  stay  at  Mohilov 
till  chambuls  were  visible  with  the  naked  eye.  The  Hetman's 
instructions  were  eagerly  seeking  the  famous  Pan  Rushchyts, 
who  as  a  warrior  was  alone  surpassed  by  Volodiyovski;  but 
Pan  Eushchyts  had  gone  to  the  steppes  at  the  head  of  a  few 
dozen  men  and  disappeared  as  a  drop  fallen  in  water.  They 
did  not  hear  of  him  till  later,  when  strange  rumors  spread 
that  around  Doroshenko's  camp  and  about  the  detachments 
of  the  horde  a  sort  of  evil  spirit  was  hovering,  daily  cutting 
off  single  warriors  and  small  bodies.  It  was  suspected  that 
this  must  be  Pan  Rushchyts  who  ventured  so  near  the  enemy, 
for  no  other  would  strike  in  that  way  except  the  little  knight. 
In  fact  it  was  Pan  Rushchyts. 

As  already  decided,  Volodiyovski  had  to  go  to  Kamenets; 
the  Hetman  needed  him  there,  for  he  knew  him  to  be  a  soldier 
the  sight  of  whom  would  pour  comfort  into  all  hearts,  while 
it  would  give  an  impetus  to  the  inhabitants  and  the  garrison. 
The  Hetman  was  convinced  that  Kamenets  could  not  hold 

1  Stanitsa  means  military  post. 

(403) 


404  PAN  MICHAEL. 

out;  his  only  object  was  that  it  should  do  so  as  long  as  pos- 
sible, so  as  to  enable  the  Commonwealth  to  collect  forces  for 
its  defence.  With  this  conviction  he  sent  his  beloved  soldiers 
and  the  most  famous  cavalier  of  the  Commonwealth  to  what 
seemed  certain  death. 

He  sent  the  most  famous  warrior  to  death  without  com- 
punction. The  Hetman  always  thought  what  he  said  later 
in  Vienna  that  Paul  Woynina  might  give  birth  to  people,  but 
that  Woyna  only  killed  them.1  He  himself  was  ready  to  die. 
He  believed  that  to  die  in  battle  was  the  chief  duty  of  a  sol- 
dier and  that,  when  a  soldier  could  render  great  service  by 
dying,  death  was  a  great  favor  and  reward  to  him.  The  Het- 
man also  knew  that  the  little  knight  agreed  with  him. 

Moreover  he  had  no  time  to  think  of  sparing  single  soldiers 
when  destruction  was  approaching  churches,  towns,  the  coun- 
try, and  the  entire  Commonwealth;  when  in  unheard  of  multi- 
tudes the  Orient  was  rising  against  Europe  to  conquer  the 
whole  of  Christendom,  which,  shielded  by  the  breast  of  the 
Commonwealth,  had  no  thought  of  rendering  assistance  to  it. 
The  Hetman' s  sole  object  was  that  Kamenets  should  protect 
the  Commonwealth,  and  then  the  Commonwealth  the  rest  of 
Christendom. 

This  might  have  been  if  the  Commonwealth  had  been 
strong  and  not  destro}red  by  disorder.  But  the  Hetman  had 
not  even  sufficient  forces  for  reconnaissances,  much  less  for 
war.  If  he  hurried  some  dozens  of  soldiers  to  one  spot  it  left 
another  without  any,  where  an  invading  wave  might  pour 
through  without  hindrance.  The  night-sentries  posted  by  the 
Sultan  in  his  camp  were  more  numerous  than  all  the  Hetman's 
squadrons.  The  invasion  was  advancing  in  two  directions, — 
from  the  Dnieper  and  Danube.  The  chief  squadrons  had  gone 
against  Doroshenko  because  he  was  the  nearer  with  the  whole 
Crimean  horde  and  had  already  overrun  the  country  with  fire 
and  sword;  in  the  other  direction  even  simple  scouts  were 
lacking. 

In  such  dire  extremity  the  Hetman  wrote  the  few  following 
words  to  Pan  Michael: 

"I  have  already  considered  whether  or  no  to  send  you  to 
face  the  foe  at  Eashkov,  but  I  feared  lest  the  horde  should 
cross  by  seven  fords  from  the  Moldavian  bank  and  occupy  the 
country  and  you  would  not  be  able  to  reach  Kamenets,  where 

1  A  pun  on  the  word  'Woyna/  war.  Woynina  is  the  feminine  of  woynaj 
thu$  what  lady  Woynina  produces  Woyna  destroys, 


PAN  MICHAEL.  405 

you  are  absolutely  needed.  Only  yesterday  I  remembered 
Novovyeyski,  who  is  an  experienced  and  daring  soldier,  and 
I  think  he  will  render  me  effective  service,  because  a  despair- 
ing man  will  undertake  anything.  Send  him  whatever  light 
cavalry  you  can  spare;  let  him  advance  as  far  as  possible  and 
show  himself  everywhere  and  spread  reports  of  our  great  army 
when  he  comes  in  presence  of  the  enemy;  let  him  suddenly 
appear  in  various  places  and  avoid  being  captured.  We  know 
how  they  will  come;  but  if  he  observes  anything  fresh  he  is  to 
send  you  word  at  once  and  you  will  despatch  a  messenger 
without  delay  to  me  and  to  Kamenets.  Let  Novovyeyski  move 
quickly  and  you  yourself  be  ready  to  go  to  Kamenets,  but 
stay  where  you  are  until  you  receive  tidings  from  Novovyeyski 
in  Moldavia." 

As  Pan  Adam  was  then  at  Mohilov,  and  as  it  was  said  that 
he  was  coming  to  Khreptyov  in  any  case,  the  little  knight 
merely  sent  word  to  him  to  hasten  because  a  commission  from 
the  Hetman  was  awaiting  him  in  Khreptyov. 

Pan  Adam  arrived  three  days  later.  His  acquaintances 
scarcely  recognized  him  and  they  thought  that  Pan  Byalo- 
glovski  had  good  reason  to  call  him  a  skeleton.  He  was  no 
longer  that  fine  fellow,  joyous  and  high-spirited,  who  of  old 
used  to  dash  at  the  foe  with  bursts  of  laughter  like  the  neigh- 
ing of  a  horse,  striking  with  the  sweep  of  the  sails  of  a  wind- 
mill. He  had  grown  thin,  yellow  and  black,  but  his  thinness 
made  him  look  still  more  of  a  giant.  When  he  looked  at 
people  he  blinked  as  if  he  did  not  recognize  his  most  intimate 
acquaintances;  moreover,  the  same  thing  had  to  be  repeated 
twice  or  thrice  to  him,  as  at  first  he  did  not  understand.  It 
seemed  as  if  grief  was  flowing  in  his  veins  instead  of  blood; 
he  was  evidently  trying  not  to  think  of  certain  matters,  pre- 
ferring to  forget  them  in  order  not  to  lose  his  reason. 

It  is  true  that  in  those  parts  there  was  not  a  man,  nor  a 
family,  nor  a  single  army-officer  who  was  not  grieving  for 
some  acquaintance,  or  friend,  or  near  and  dear  one,  or  who 
had  not  suffered  some  injury  from  Infidel  hands;  but  simply 
a  whole  cloud  of  calamity  had  burst  upon  Novovyeyski.  In 
one  day  he  had  lost  father,  sister,  as  well  as  his  betrothed, 
whom  he  loved  with  all  the  might  of  his  exuberant  soul.  He 
would  far  rather  that  his  sister  and  that  beloved  sweet  girl 
had  both  died,  or  that  they  had  perished  by  the  knife  or 
flames.  But  such  was  their  fate  that  the  greatest  torments 
were  nothing  in  comparison  when  Novovyeyski  thought  of 


406  P&X  MICHAEL. 

them.  He  tried  not  to  dwell  upon  their  fate,  as  he  felt  that 
the  thought  of  it  bordered  on  madness;  but  without  success. 

His  calmness  was  only  assumed.  Jn  his  soul  there  was  not 
the  slightest  resignation,,  and  at  the  first  glance  everybody 
could  tell  that  beneath  his  torpor  was  something  ominous  and 
dreadful,  and  if  it  broke  out  this  giant  would  do  some  awful 
deed,  like  a  destroying  element.  This  seemed  to  be  plainly 
written  on  his  brow,  so  that  even  his  friends  approached  with 
some  timidity,  and  when  they  talked  with  him  they  did  not 
refer  to  past  happenings. 

The  sight  of  Basia  at  Khreptyov  reopened  his  closed 
wounds,  for  as  he  kissed  her  hands  in  greeting  he  began  to 
groan  like  an  aurochs  when  mortally  wounded,  his  eyes  grew 
bloodshot,  and  the  veins  in  his  neck  swelled  like  cords.  When 
the  tearful  Basia  pressed  his  head  with  her  little  hands  with 
the  affection  of  a  mother  he  fell  at  her  feet  and  was  not  able  to 
rise  for  some  time.  But  when  he  learned  what  sort  of  duty 
the  Hetman  had  given  him  he  livened  up  greatly;  a  gleam  of 
ominous  joy  illumined  his  face  and  he  said: 

"I  will  do  that;  I  will  do  more!" 

"And  if  you  meet  that  mad  dog,  flay  him/'  cried  Zagloba. 

Novovyeyski  made  no  immediate  reply,  but  only  looked  at 
Zagloba;  his  eyes  flashed  with  sudden  madness,  he  rose  and 
sprang  towards  the  old  noble  as  if  he  wanted  to  fall  upon  him. 

"Do  you  believe,"  he  cried,  "that  I  have  never  done  ill  to 
that  man,  and  that  I  have  always  been  kind  to  him?" 

"I  believe  it,  I  believe  it!"  said  Zagloba  as  he  hastily  got 
behind  the  little  knight.  "I  would  accompanj  you  myself, 
but  the  gout  gnaws  my  feet." 

"Novovyeyski,"  asked  the  little  knight,  "when  lo  you  want 
to  start?" 

"To-night." 

"I  will  give  you  a  hundred  dragoons.  I  will  remain  here 
I  with  another  hundred  and  the  infantry.  Go  to  the  square!" 

They  went  out  to  issue  orders.  Zydor  Lusnia  was  waiting 
on  the  threshold  as  straight  as  a  string.  The  news  of  the  ex- 
pedition had  already  spread  through  the  square  and  the  ser- 
geant in  the  name  of  himself  and  his  company  had  come  to 
beg  the  little  colonel  to  let  him  accompany  Pan  Adam. 

"How  is  this?  Do  you  want  to  leave  me?"  asked  the  as- 
tonished Pan  Michael. 

"Pan  Commandant,  we  have  made  a  vow  against  that  son 
pf  a  burned  father,  and  perhaps  he  may  fall  into  otir  hands." 


PAN   MICHAEL.  407 

"True!  Pan  Zagloba  told  me  about  it,"  answered  the  little 
knight. 

Lusnia  turned  to  Novovyayski: 

"Pan  Commandant!" 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"If  we  catch  him  may  I  take  care  of  him?" 

"Such  ferocious  animal  venom  was  painted  on  the  features 
of  the  Mazure  that  Novovyeyski  immediately  bent  down  to 
Pan  Michael  and  entreated: 

"Your  lordship,  let  me  have  this  man!" 

Volodiyovski  did  not  think  of  refusing,  and  the  same  even- 
ing about  dusk  a  hundred  horsemen  set  out  on  the  journey 
with  Novovyeyski  at  their  head. 

They  took  the  usual  road  through  Mohilov  and  Yampol. 
In  Yampol  they  met  the  former  garrison  of  Kashkov,  two 
hundred  men  of  which  joined  Novovyeyski  by  the  Hetman's 
orders;  the  remainder,  under  the  command  of  Pan  Byalog- 
lovski,  were  to  proceed  to  Mohilov  where  Pan  Bogush  was 
stationed. 

Pan  Adam  moved  down  towards  Rashkov. 

The  neighborhood  of  Rashkov  was  a  complete  waste:  the 
town  itself  had  been  reduced  to  a  heap  of  ashes,  which  the 
winds  had  been  able  to  blow  to  the  four  points  of  the  compass; 
its  few  remaining  inhabitants  had  fled  before  the  expected 
storm.  It  was  already  the  beginning  of  May  and  the  Dob- 
rudja  horde  might  appear  at  any  moment,  so  that  it  was  dan- 
gerous to  stay  in  that  region.  In  fact  the  hordes  were  with 
the  Turks  on  the  plain  of  Kauchunkaury,  but  at  Rashkov 
they  did  not  know  that,  and  so  every  one  of  the  inhabitants 
who  had  escaped  the  late  massacre  carried  his  head  away  in 
good  season  whithersoever  it  appeared  best  to  him. 

Along  the  way  Lusnia  was  forming  plans  and  strategems 
that  he  thought  Novovyeyski  ought  to  adopt  if  he  really 
wanted  to  succeed  in  outwitting  the  foe.  He  graciously  un- 
folded these  ideas  to  the  ranks. 

"You  horse-skulls  -don't  know  anything  about  the  matter," 
he  said  to  them,  "you  are  not  acquainted  with  it,  but  I  am 
old  myself,  and  I  know.  We  shall  go  to  Rashkov  and  hide 
there  and  wait.  The  horde  will  come  to  the  ford  and  small 
bodies  will  cross  first  as  their  custom  is,  because  the  chambul 
halts  and  waits  till  they  report  whether  it  is  safe  or  not;  then 
we  shall  steal  out  and  drive  them  before  us  to  Kamenets." 

"But  we  may  not  catch  that  dog-brother  that  way,"  re- 
marked one  of  the  troopers. 


408  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"Shut  your  mouth!"  cried  Lusnia.  "Who  will  inarch  io 
the  vanguard  if  not  the  Lipkov  Tartars?" 

In  fact  the  foresight  of  the  sergeant  seemed  to  be  justified. 
When  Novovyeyski  reached  Kashkov  he  let  his  men  rest. 
They  all  felt  sure  that  they  would  go  next  to  the  caves,  many 
of  which  were  in  the  vicinity,  and  hide  there  till  the  first 
bodies  of  the  raiders  appeared. 

But  on  the  second  day  the  commander  roused  his  squadron 
and  led  it  beyond  Eashkov. 

"Are  we  going  to  Yahorlik,  or  what?"  the  sergeant  asked 
himself. 

Meanwhile  they  neared  the  river  just  beyond  Rashkov,  and 
a  few  Paters  later  they  halted  at  the  so-called  Bloody  Ford. 
Without  uttering  a  word  Pan  Adam_  spurred  his  horse  into 
the  water  and  began  to  cross  to  the  opposite  bank.  The  sol- 
diers began  to  gaze  at  one  another  in  astonishment. 

"How  is  this,  are  we  going  to  the  Turks?"  But  there  were 
not  'fine  gentlemen'  of  the  general  militia,  ready  to  call  a 
meeting  and  protest;  they  were  simply  soldiers  used  to  the 
iron  discipline  of  the  military  posts,  and  so  the  men  in  the 
first  rank  urged  their  horses  into  the  water  after  their  leader 
and  those  of  the  second  and  third  followed  them.  There  was 
not  the  slightest  hesitation.  They  were  astonished  that  with 
three  hundred  horses  they  were  marching  against  the  power 
of  the  Turk  which  the  whole  world  could  not  conquer;  but 
they  went.  The  water  was  soon  splashing  about  the  horses' 
flanks,  and  then  the  men  ceased  wondering  and  only  exercised 
their  minds  to  keep  the  sacks  of  food  for  themselves  and  the 
horses  from  getting  wet. 

They  only  began  to  look  at  each  other  again  on  the  oppo- 
site bank. 

"For  God's  sake!  We  are  in  Moldavia  already!"  they 
whispered. 

And  some  of  them  looked  behind  them  across  the  Dniester, 
which  gleamed  in  the  setting  sun  like  a  ribbon  of  red  and  gold, 
The  bright  glow  also  flooded  the  cliffs  of  the  river  that  were 
full  of  caves.  They  rose  like  a  wall  at  that  moment  separa- 
ting that  handful  of  men  from  their  own  land.  It  was  in  fact 
the  final  parting  for  many  of  them. 

The  thought  flashed  through  Lusnia's  head  that  perhaps 
the  Commandant  had  <rone  mad;  but  it  was  for  the  officer  to 
command  and  him  to  obey. 

Meanwhile  the  horses,  issuing  from  the  water,  began  to 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

snort  loudly  in  the  ranks.  "Zdrow!  Zdrow!"  (Good  health) 
was  heard  from  the  soldiers.  They  regarded  the  snorting  as  a 
good  omen  and  their  hearts  were  somewhat  comforted. 

"Move  on!"  ordered  Novovyeyski. 

The  ranks  advanced  towards  the  setting  sun  and  towards 
those  thousands,  those  swarms  of  men,  and  those  nations  en- 
camped at  Kauchunkaury. 


CHAPTER  XL1 

Pan  Novovyeyski's  passage  of  the  Digester,  and  his  march, 
with  three  hundred  sabres  against  the  power  of  the  Sultan 
numbering  myriads  of  warriors,  were  actions  that  might  be 
regarded  as  sheer  madness  by  anybody  unacquainted  with 
war;  but  they  were  only  bold  warlike  procedures  that  had 
certain  chances  of  success. 

In  the  first  place,  the  raiders  of  that  time  often  went 
against  chambuls  a  hundred  times  more  numerous;  they  came 
within  sight  of  the  enemy  and  then  disappeared  and  made 
a  bloody  slaughter  of  their  scattered  pursuers.  Just  as  a 
wolf  sometimes  lures  the  dogs  after  him  so  as  to  turn  at  the 
right  moment  and  kill  the  one  that  is  pressing  him  hardest; 
so  did  they.  In  the  twinkle  of  an  eye  the  quarry  became 
the  hunter;  he  started  off,  hid  and  feinted,  and,  though  pur- 
sued, he  himself  hunted,  made  an  unexpected  attack  and 
bit  to  death.  This  was  called  'the  Tartar  trick/  by  which 
each  party  tried  to  outdo  the  other  in  stratagems,  tricks,  and 
ambushes.  The  most  celebrated  man  at  this  business  was 
Pan  Michael,  and  next  came  Pan  Eushchyts,  and  then  Pan 
Pivo,  and  then  Pan  Motovidlo;  but  Novovyeyski,  who  had 
warred  in  the  steppes  from  childhood,  belonged  to  the  num- 
ber of  those  who  were  mentioned  among  the  most  famous, 
and  therefore  it  was  very  probable  that  when  he  came  in 
the  presence  of  the  horde  he  would  not  let  himself  be  cap- 
tured. 

The  expedition  also  had  chances  of  success  because  there 
were  wild  regions  beyond  the  Dniester  in  which  it  was  easy 
to  hide.  Settlements  only  appeared  here  and  there  along 
the  rivers  and  the  country  was  little  inhabited  for  the  most 
part;  it  was  rocky  and  hilly  by  the  Dniester,  but  farther  in- 
land were  steppes,  or  the  land  was  covered  with  forests  in 
which  strayed  numerous  herds  of  animals,  from  wild  buf- 
faloes, to  hinds,  harts,  and  wild-boars.  Before  the  expedition, 
the  Sultan  wanted  to  estimate  his  strength  and  count  his 
forces,  the  hordes  dwelling  on  the  Nij  Dniester,  and  Byalo- 
(410) 


PAAT   MICHAEL.  4tl 

grod,  and  the  Dobrudja  still  farther  away,  had  marched  to 
the  south  of  the  Balkans  at  the  Sultan's  command,  and  the 
forces  of  Moldavia  had  followed  them,  so  that  the  country 
had  become  more  deserted  than  ever  and  it  was  possible  to 
travel  for  a  week  without  being  seen  by  anybody. 

Pan  Novovyeyski  was  too  familiar  with  Tartar  ways  not 
to  know  that  when  the  chambuls  had  once  passed  the  border 
of  the  Commonwealth  they  would  advance  with  greater  cau- 
tion, keeping  strict  watch  on  every  side;  but  that  in  their 
own  country  they  would  move  in  wide  columns  without  spe- 
cial care.  And  indeed  they  did  so;  the  Tartars  would  have 
considered  themselves  more  likely  to  meet  Death  himself 
than  to  meet  in  the  depths  of  Bessarabia,  in  the  very  haunts 
of  the  Tartars,  the  forces  of  that  Commonwealth  which  had 
not  sufficient  troops  to  protect  its- own  border. 

Pan  Novovyeyski  was  confident  that,  in  the  first  place  his 
expedition  would  surprise  the  enemy,  and  would  therefore 
do  more  good  even  than  the  Hetman  had  hoped,  and  in  the 
second,  that  it  might  be  fatal  to  Azya  and  his  Lipkovs.  It 
was  easy  for  the  young  lieutenant  to  guess  that  the  Lipkovs 
and  Cheremis  would  form  the  vanguard,  as  they  were  well 
acquainted  with  the  country,  and  he  placed  his  chief  hope 
on  that  certainty.  All  that  Novovyeyski's  tortured  spirit 
desired  was  to  fall  unexpectedly  on  Azya  and  capture  him, 
and  perhaps  rescue  his  sister  and  Zosia,  snatch  them  from 
slavery,  wreak  his  vengeance,  and  then  fall  in  battle. 

Buoyed  up  by  these  thoughts  and  hopes,  Novovyeyski 
shook  off  his  torpor  and  revived.  His  march  along  unknown 
ways,  his  severe  toil,  the  wide-blowing  wind  of  the  steppes, 
and  the  peril  of  the  daring  undertaking  improved  his  health 
and  restored  his  former  strength.  The  man  of  misfortune 
in  him  began  to  yield  to  the  warrior.  Until  now  there  had 
been  no  room  in  his  heart  for  anything  but  memories  and 
anguish;  but  now  for  whole  days  he  had  to  think  how  an 
enemy  should  act  and  rend. 

After  passing  the  Dniester  they  struck  a  diagonal  and 
went  down  towards  the  Pruth.  During  the  day  they  often 
hid  in  reeds  and  forests,  and  made  secret  and  forced  marches 
at  night.  The  country  was  not  much  inhabited  so  far,  and 
was  principally  occupied  by  nomads  and  the  greater  part 
of  it  was  desolate.  Very  rarely  they  came  across  fields  of 
maize  with  houses  near  by. 

Making  secret  marches  they  endeavored  to  avoid  the  larger 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

settlements,  but  they  frequently  halted  at  smaller  ones  of  one, 
two,  three,  or  even  a  number  of  huts;  they  boldly  entered 
these,  as  they  knew  that  none  of  the  inhabitants  would  think 
of  fleeing  before  them  to  Budziak  and  warning  the  Tartars 
there.  However  Lusnia  took  good  care  that  this  should  not 
happen,  though  he  soon  omitted  the  precaution,  as  he  was 
satisfied  that  these  few  settlements,  although  partly  subject 
to  the  Sultan,  were  anticipating  his  troops  with  dread;  and 
moreover  that  they  had  no  idea  what  sort  of  people  had  ar- 
rived, and  took  the  detachment  for  a  Karalash  body  who  were 
following  the  others  at  the  Sultan's  command. 

Without  opposition,  the  inhabitants  supplied  them  corn, 
cakes,  and  dried  buffalo-meat.  Every  one  had  his  flock  of 
sheep,  his  buffaloes,  and  horses  in  hiding  near  the  rivers. 
Sometimes  also  numerous  herds  of  half-wild  buffaloes  ap- 
peared attended  by  herdsmen.  These  herdsmen  lived  on  the 
steppes  in  tents  and  only  stayed  in  one  place  as  long  as  grass 
was  plentiful.  They  were  often  old  Tartars.  Novovyeyski 
surorunded  these  as  carefully  as  though  they  had  been  a 
chambul  and  did  not  spare  them,  for  fear  they  might  send 
tidings  of  his  coming  to  Budziak.  After  inquiring  of  the 
Tartars  concerning  the  roads,  or  rather  the  trackless  country, 
he  mercilessly  slew  them  so  that  not  a  foot  should  escape. 
From  the  herds  he  then  took  as  many  heads  as  he  needed  and 
went  on. 

The  detachment  went  southwards  and  now  more  often 
met  with  herds  that  were  almost  exclusively  guarded  by 
Tartars  in  considerable  bodies.  In  two  weeks'  marching 
Novovyeyski  surrounded  and  slew  three  parties  of  shepherds 
of  some  dozens  of  men.  The  dragoons  always  took  the  sheep- 
skin coats,  cleaned  them  over  the  fire,  and  put  them  on,  so 
as  to  look  like  wild  herdsmen  and  shepherds.  In  another 
week  they  were  all  dressed  like  Tartars  and  looked  exactly 
'  like  a  chambul.  They  only  retained  the  weapons  of  regular 
cavalry;  but  they  kept  their  jackets  strapped  to  their  saddles, 
so  as  to  resume  them  when  they  returned.  Close  at  hand 
they  might  be  recognized  by  their  yellow  moustaches  and 
blue  eyes;  but  from  a  distance  the  most  experienced  might  be 
deceived  by  their  appearance,  and  the  more  so  as  they  drove 
before  them  the  cattle  needed  for  food. 

They  approached  the  Pruth  and  marched  along  its  left 
bank.  Since  the  Kuchman  trail  was  in  too  desolate  a  region, 
it  was  plain  that  the  Sultan's  forces  and  the  horde  in  the 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

vanguard  would  march  through  Falezi,  Hush,  Kotirnore, 
and  then  only  by  the  Wallachian  border,  either  turning  to- 
wards the  Dniester,  or  going  as  straight  as  the  swathe  of  a 
sickle  through  all  Bessarabia  to  issue  on  the  Commonwealth 
frontier  near  Ushytsa.  Pan  Novoyetski  was  so  sure  of  this 
that  he  went  more  and  more  slowly  and  warily;  so  as  not 
to  come  across  chambuls  too  suddenly.  At  last  he  arrived 
at  the  confluence  of  the  Sarat  and  Tekich  and  stopped  there 
for  a  long  halt,  first  to  rest  his  men  and  horses,  and  second, 
to  await  the  coming  of  the  horde  in  a  favorable  lurking-place. 

The  spot  was  well  sheltered  and  carefully  selected;  be- 
cause both  banks  of  the  two  rivers  were  covered  with  the  cor- 
nelian brush  and  dogwood.  This  bush  extended  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach  covering  the  ground  in  places  with  thick 
brush,  and  in  others  forming  clumps  of  bushes  among  which 
were  open  spaces  convenient  for  a  camp.  At  that  season  the 
trees  and  bushes  had  shed  their  blossoms,  but  in  early  Spring 
there  must  have  been  a  sea  of  yellow  and  white  flowers.  The 
spot  was  deserted  by  mankind,  but  it  swarmed  with  game, 
such  as  deer,  antelopes,  and  rabbits;  and  with  birds.  Here 
and  there  also,  on  the  margin  of  a  spring,  the  soldiers  found 
the  tracks  of  bears.  When  the  party  arrived  one  man  killed 
a  couple  of  sheep.  Lusnia,  in  consequence,  wanted  to  have 
a  sheep-hunt,  but  Novovyeyski  would  not  allow  muskets  to 
be  used,  as  he  wanted  to  lie  in  concealment;  so  the  soldiers 
hunted  with  boar-spears  and  axes. 

They  found,  later,  traces  of  fires  near  the  water,  but  they 
were  probably  old  ones  of  last  year.  It  was  evident  that  oc- 
casionally nomads  visited  the  place  with  their  herds,  or  per- 
haps Tartars  came  there  to  cut  wood  for  handles.  But  the 
strictest  search  did  not  reveal  a  human  being. 

Novovyeyski  decided  to  go  no  further,  but  to  await  the 
coming  of  the  Turkish  army  there. 

They  laid  out  a  square,  built  huts,  and  waited.  Sentries 
were  posted  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  some  watched  day  and 
night  towards  Budziak;  others  towards  Falezi  and  the  Pruth. 
Pan  Adam  knew  that  certain  signs  would  announce  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Sultan's  forces;  he  also  sent  out  small  scouting- 
parties  and  usually  led  them  himself.  The  weather  was  very 
favorable  for  a  halt  in  that  dry  region.  The  days  were  warm 
but  it  was  easy  to  escape  the  heat  in  the  shade  of  the  wood; 
the  nights  were  clear,  trnnquil,  and  moonlight,  and  the 
woods  were  tremulous  with  the  nightingale's  songs.  On  such 


4I4  PAN  MICHAEL. 

nights  Pan  Novovyeyski's  sufferings  were  greatest  as  he  could 
not  sleep;  his  thoughts  reverted  to  his  former  happiness  and 
dwelt  on  the  present  days  of  anguish. 

He  only  lived  in  the  thought  that  when  he  had  glutted  his 
heart  with  vengeance  his  mind  would  regain  peace  and  hap- 
uiness.  Meanwhile  the  time  was  approaching  when  he  would 
fulfill  his  vengeance  or  die. 

Week  after  week  went  by  in  foraging  in  wild  places  and 
keeping  watch.  During  this  time  they  examined  all  the 
trails,  ravines,  clearings,  rivers  and  streams,  again  collected 
a  number  of  herds  and  slew  some  small  parties  of  nomads; 
and  kept  constant  vigil  in  the  grove  like  a  wild  beast  await- 
ing its  prey.  At  length  the  expected  moment  came. 

One  morning  they  >saw  flocks  of  birds  darkening  the  earth 
and  sky.  Bustards,  partridges,  and  blue-legged  quails  were 
hurrying  through  the  grass  towards  the  thicket;  through  the 
heavens  were  flying  ravens,  crows,  and  even  aquatic  birds, 
that  had  evidently  been  scared  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube, 
or  in  the  swamps  of  the  Dobrudja.  When  they  saw  this  the 
dragoons  gazed  at  one  another  and  the  words,  "They  are 
coming,  they  are  coming!"  flew  from  lip  to  lip.  Faces  im- 
mediately lighted  up,  mouths  began  to  twitch,  and  eyes  to 
flash;  but  there  was  not  the  least  alarm  in  this  excitement. 
These  were  all  men  whose  lives  had  been  spent  in  irregular 
warfare,  and  so  they  experienced  only  what  a  hound  feels 
when  he  scents  game.  Fires  were  extinguished  in  a  mo- 
ment, so  that  the  presence  of  those  in  the  thicket  might  not 
be  revealed  by  the  smoke;  the  horses  were  saddled  and  the 
whole  troop  stood  ready  for  action. 

It  was  necessary  so  to  arrange  the  time  as  to  fall  upon  the 
enemy  during  a  halt.  Pan  Novovyeyski  quite  understood 
that  the  Sultan's  forces  would  not  march  in  close  order,  par- 
ticularly in  their  own  country,  where  danger  was  entirely 
improbable.  He  also  knew  that  the  vanguards  usually 
marched  from  five  to  ten  miles  in  advance  of  the  main  army. 
He  had  good  reason  to  hope  too  that  the  Lipkovs  would  lead 
the  vanguard. 

For  some  time  'he  was  uncertain  whether  to  advance  to 
them  by  hidden  ways,  with  which  he  had  acquainted  him- 
self, or  await  their  approach  in  the  woods.  He  took  the  latter 
course  because  it  was  easier  to  make  an  unexpected  attack  from 
the  woods.  Another  day  and  night  passed  during  which 
not  only  swarms  of  birds  but  beasts  of  the  earth  came  to 
the  woods  in  droves.  The  next  morning  the  enemy  appeared. 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


415 


To  the  Aouth  of  the  wood  a  wide  rolling  meadow  extended 
till  it  was  lost  o>n  the  far  horizon.  The  enemy  appeared  on  this 
meadow  and  rapidly  approached  the  Tekich.  From  the  trees 
the  dragoons  watched  that  dark  mass  that  sometimes  dis- 
appeared behind  the  hills  and  then  appeared  again  in  full 
array. 

Lusnia,  who  had  remarkably  keen  sight  gazed  intently  for 
some  time  at  the  approaching  mass;  then  he  advanced  to 
Novovyeyski  and  said: 

"Pan  Commandant,  there  are  not  many  men;  they  are  only 
driving  the  herds  out  to  pasture." 

Novovyeyski  soon  satisfied  himself  that  Lusnia  was  correct 
and  his  face  gleamed  with  satisfaction. 

"That  means  that  their  halting  place  is  five  or  six  miles 
from  this  wood/'  he  said. 

"It  does/'  Lusnia  replied.  "They  evidently  march  at  night 
to  escape  the  heat,  and  sleep  during  the  day;  they  are  now 
sending  the  horses  out  to  pasture  till  the  evening." 

"Are  the  horses  strongly  guarded?" 

Lusnia  again  went  to  the  edge  of  the  wood  and  stayed  there 
for  a  longer  time.  At  last  he  appeared  and  said: 

"There  are  about  fifteen  hundred  horses  and  twenty-five 
men  with  them.  They  are  in  their  own  country  and  have 
nothing  to  fear,  and  so  do  not  keep  a  strong  guard." 

"Could  you  recognize  the  men?" 

"They  are  still  distant,  but  they  are  Lipkovs.  They  are 
ours  already!" 

"They  are,"  said  Novoyeyski. 

Indeed  he  was  satisfied  that  not  a  living  soul  of  them 
would  escape.  It  was  a  very  easy  matter  for  such  a  leader 
as  himself  with  such  soldiers  as  he  led. 

In  the  meantime  the  herdsmen  were  driving  the  horses 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  wood.  Lusnia  went  to  the  edge 
again  and  returned  with  a  face  illuminated  with  gladness 
and  ferocity. 

"Lipkovs,  Sir!"  he  whispered,  "sure!" 

When  he  heard  that  Novovyeyski  made  a  noise  like  a  fal- 
con and  immediately  a  body  of  dragoons  advanced  into  the 
thick  woods.  There  they  separated  into  two  parties,  one  of 
which  disappeared  down  a  defile  to  issue  in  the  rear  of  the 
herd  and  the  Tartars;  the  other  formed  a  semi-circle  and 
waited. 

All  this  passed  so  quietly  that  the  most  trained  ear  could 


4i6  PAX   MICHAEL. 

not  have  caught  a  sound;  not  a  sabre  nor  spur  rattled;  not 
a  horse  neighed,  and  the  thick  sward  deadened  the  train}) 
of  hoofs;  moreover  the  very  horses  seemed  to  comprehend 
that  the  success  of  the  attack  depended  on  silence,  for  it  was 
not  the  first  time  they  had  been  engaged  in  such  service. 
From  the  gulley  and  the  bushes  nothing  was  audible  but 
the  cry  of  the  falcon  gradually  growing  fainter  and  less  fre- 
quent. 

The  herd  of  Lipkov  horses  stopped  in  front  of  the  wood 
and  scattered  over  the  meadow  in  groups  of  various  size. 
Pan  Adam  himself  was  then  near  the  margin  following  the 
movements  of  the  herdsmen.  It  was  a  clear  day  in  the  fore- 
noon, but  the  sun  was  already  high  and  casting  its  hot  rays 
upon  the  earth.  The  horses  began  to  roll  and  presently  they 
approached  the  wood.  The  keepers  rode  to  the  edge  of  the 
wood,  dismounted,  and  tethered  their  horses  with  long  ropes* 
then  in  search  of  shade  and  cool  spots  they  entered  the  grove 
and  lay  down  to  rest  under  the  largest  bushes. 

Soon  some  dry  sticks  burst  into  a  flame,  when  they  had 
turned  to  embers  and  were  covered  with  ashes  the  herdsmen 
put  half  a  colt  on  them  and  sat  down  at  some  distance  to 
escape  the  heat. 

Some  extended  themselves  on  the  grass,  while  others 
talked,  sitting  in  groups  in  the  Turkish  fashion;  one  began 
to  play  on  the  pipe.  Complete  silence  prevailed  in  the 
thicket,  and  only  the  falcon  was  occasionally  heard. 

The  odor  of  burned  flesh  at  last  announced  that  the  roast 
was  ready.  Two  men  withdrew  it  from  the  ashes  and 
dragged  it  to  <a  shady  tree  where  they  sat  in  a  circle  cutting 
the  meat  with  their  knives  and  devouring  it  like  animals. 
Blood  flowed  from  the  half-raw  strips,  bathing  their  fingers 
and  trickling  down  their  beards. 

After  they  had  ended  eating  and  had  drunk  sour  mare's 
milk  out  of  cups  they  began  to  rub  their  stomachs  in  reple- 
tion. Then  they  talked  for  a  time  until  their  heads  and 
limbs  grew  heavy.  The  afternoon  came.  The  heat  beat 
down  more  and  more  strongly  from  Heaven.  The  ground 
of  the  forest  was  streaked  with  quivering  light  as  it  pierced 
the  dense  foliage.  Everything  was  still  and  even  the  falcons 
had  ceased  to  call. 

Several  Tartars  got  up  and  went  to  look  at  the  horses; 
others  stretched  themselves  out  like  corpses  on  a  battlefield 
and  were  soon  overcome  by  sleep.  But  their  sleep  after 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

much  meat  and  drink  was  somewhat  heavy  and  disturbed, 
for  now  and  then  one  would  groan  heavily  and  another  would 
open  his  eyes  for  a  moment  and  cry,  "Allah,  BismillahP 

Suddenly  on  the  edge  of  the  wood  a  faint  and  dreadful 
sound  was  heard  like  the  short  gasp  of  a  choked  man  who 
had  no  time  to  call  out.  Whether  the  hearing  of  the  herds- 
men was  so  keen,  or  some  animal  instinct  had  warned  them 
of  danger,  or  whether,  lastly,  Death  had  blown  upon  them 
with  cold  breath,  it  is  sufficient  that  they  sprang  from  then 
sleep  in  an  instant. 

"What  is  that?  Where  are  the  men  with  the  horses ?" 
they  began  to  ask  each  other.  A  voice  from  the  thicket  then 
said  in  Polish: 

"They  won't  come  back!" 

That  moment  a  hundred  and  fifty  men  surrounded  the 
herdsmen,  who  were  so  terrified  that  the  cry  died  on  their  lips. 
One  here  and  there  scarcely  managed  to  grasp  his  dagger. 
The  circle  of  assailants  covered  and  completely  concealed 
them.  The  brush  trembled  with  the  swaying  of  human 
bodies  which  were  struggling  in  a  confused  mass.  The  whizz 
of  blades  and  sometimes  panting,  groaning,  or  wheezing  was 
audible;  but  this  lasted  only  for  a  moment  and  then  all  was 
still. 

"How  many  are  alive  ?"  asked  a  voice  among  the  assailants. 

"Five,  Pan  Commandant.'' 

"Examine  the  bodies;  give  every  man  a  knife  in  the  throat 
lest  any  escape,  and  bring  the  prisoners  to  the  fire." 

The  order  was  carried  out  in  an  instant.  The  corpses  were 
pinned  to  the  sward  with  their  own  knives;  after  having  their 
feet  bound  to  sticks  the  prisoners  were  brought  up  to  the 
fire  which  Lusnia  had  raked  so  that  the  embers  under  the 
ashes  were  brought  to  the  top. 

The  captives  gazed  at  Lusnia  and  at  these  preparations 
with  starting  eyes.  There  were  three  Lipkovs  of  Khreptyov 
among  them  who  were  perfectly  well  acquainted  with  the 
sergeant.  He  also  knew  them  and  said: 

"Well,  comrades,  now  you  must  sing,  or  you  will  go  to 
the  other  world  with  roasted  soles.  I  will  not  stint  the  fire 
for  the  sake  of  old  acquaintance." 

Then  he  threw  some  dry  sticks  on  the  fire  which  immedi- 
ately leaped  up  in  tall  flames. 

Then  Pan  Adam  approached  and  commenced  the  examina- 
tion. From  the  confessions  of  the  captives  it  appeared  that 
27 


4i  8  PAN   MICHAEL. 

what  the  young  lieutenant  had  already  divined  was  the  truth. 
The  Lipkovs  and  Cheremis  were  marching  in  the  vanguard 
in  front  of  the  horde  and  all  the  troops  of  the  Sultan.  They 
were  led  by  Azya,  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  who  had  received 
the  command  over  all  the  detachments.  In  common  with 
the  whole  army  they  marched  at  night  on  account  of  the  heat 
and  pastured  their  herds  during  the  day.  They  sent  out 
no  scouts,  because  nobody  imagined  that  they  would  be  at- 
tacked even  near  the  Dniester,  much  less  at  the  Pruth  in 
the  very  haunts  of  the  horde;  therefore  they  marched  easily 
with  their  herds  and  the  camels  carrying  the  tents  of  the 
officers.  Murza  Azya's  tent  was  easily  recognized  by  the 
bunchuk  above  it  and  the  banners  of  the  various  companies 
were  set  up  near  it  at  the  halt.  The  camp  was  four  or  five 
miles  away  and  it  contained  about  two  thousand  men,  but 
some  of  them  had  remained  with  the  Byalogrod  horde  which 
followed  about  five  miles  behind. 

Pan  Novovyeyski  made  further  inquiries  concerning  the 
best  way  to  reach  the  camp  and  how  the  tents  were  arranged 
and  lastly  of  what  most  deeply  concerned  him. 

"Are  any  women  in  the  tent?" 

The  Lipkovs  trembled  for  their  skins.  Those  among  them 
who  had  served  at  Khreptyov  knew  perfectly  well  that  Pan 
Novovyeyski  was  the  brother  of  one  of  those  women  and 
the  betrothed  of  the  other;  they  therefore  understood  what 
would  be  his  fury  when  he  learned  the  whole  truth. 

That  fury  might  first  fall  upon  them;  therefore  they  hesi- 
tated, but  Lusnia  immediately  cried: 

"Pan  Commandant,  we'll  warm  their  soles  for  the  dog- 
brood;  then  they  will  speak." 

"Thrust  their  feet  into  fire/7  cried  Pan  Novovyeyski. 

"Have  mercy!"  cried  Elyashevich,  an  old  Lipek  from 
Khreptyov.  "I  will  tell  all  that  my  eyes  have  seen." 

Lusnia  glanced  towards  the  commander  to  see  if  he  was  to 
cany  out  the  threat  notwithstanding  this  answer;  but  Pan 
Novovyeyski  shook  his  head,  and  said  to  Elyashevich: 

"Tell  what  you  have  seen." 

"We  are  innocent,  master,  we  were  under  orders.  The 
murza  gave  your  gracious  sister  to  Pan  Adurovich,  who  kept 
her  in  his  tent.  I  saw  her  at  Kauchunkaury  as  she  was  going 
with  pails  for  water  and  I  helped  her  to  carry  them,  for  her 
condition  was  such  that  they  were  heavy.  .  .  . 

"Woe!"  groaned  Novovyeyski. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  4!9 

"But  our  murza  himself  had  the  other  kdy  in  his  tent. 
We  did  not  see  her  often,  but  we  heard  her  screams  more 
than  once,  for  though  the  murza  kept  her  for  his  pleasure  he 
beat  her  with  rods  and  kicked  her.  .  .  . 

Pan  Novovyeyski's  lips  began  to  quiver  and  Elyashevich 
scarcely  heard  the  question: 

"Where  are  they  now?" 

"Sold  'in  Stambul." 

"To  whom?" 

"The  murza  himself  does  not  know.  The  Padishah  gave 
orders  that  no  women  were  to  be  kept  in  camp.  They  all 
sold  their  women  in  the  bazaar;  the  murza  sold  his/' 

The  explanation  was  ended  and  silence  fell  around  the 
fire;  but  for  some  time  a  sultry  afternoon  wind  had  been 
moving  the  branches  that  sounded  more  and  more  heavily. 
The  air  was  growing  stifling  and  on  the  horizon  black  clouds 
were  rising,  murky  in  the  centre  and  with  a  coppery  gleam 
along  the  edges. 

Pan  Adam  strode  away  from  the  fire  like  a  madman  taking 
no  heed  of  where  he  went.  At  length  he  fell  with  his  face 
to  the  earth  and  began  to  tear  it  up  with  his  nails,  and  then 
to  gnaw  at  his  fingers  and  gasp  like  a  dying  man.  His  gi- 
gantic body  writhed  convulsively  and  he  lay  so  for  hours. 
The  dragoons  watched  him  from  a  distance,  but  not  even 
Lusnia  dared  to  approach  him. 

Being  satisfied  that  he  would  not  incur  the  wrath  of  his 
commander  by  not  sparing  the  Lipkovs,  the  terrible  sergeant, 
prompted  by  sheer  innate  cruelty,  stuffed  their  mouths  with 
grass  to  prevent  a  noise  and  slaughtered  them  like  bullocks. 
He  only  spared  Elyashevich,  thinking  he  might  be  needed 
as  a  guide.  After  finishing  this  work  he  dragged  the  still 
quivering  bodies  away  from  the  fire  and  laid  them  out  in  a 
row;  then  he  went  to  look  <at  the  commander. 

"We  must  catch  that  man  yonder,  even  if  he  has  gone 
mad/'  Lusnia  muttered. 

Midday  and  afternoon  had  passed  and  evening  was  now 
coming  on.  But  the  clouds  which  -were  small  at  first  now 
covered  half  the  sky  and  were  constantly  growing  denser 
and  darker,  without  losing  the  coppery  gleam  along  the 
edges.  The  gigantic  masses  rolled  heavily  like  millstones 
upon  their  own  axes;  then  they  semed  to  fall  upon  and  crowd 
and  push  one  another  from  above  and  roll  in  dense  masses 
down  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  earth.  .  .  Now  and  then 


420  PAN   MICHAEL. 

the  wind  swooped  with  its  wings  like  a  bird  of  prey  mid  bent 
the  cornelian  and  dogwood  trees  to  the  ground  and  tore  oil' 
clouds  cf  lea,ves  and  carried  them  furiously  away;  sometimes 
there  was  a  dead  lull  as  if  it  had  fallen  to  the  earth.  During 
these  lulls  there  was  heard  among  the  rending  cloucb  an 
omnious  growling  and  shrieking  and  rattling,  as  if  a  legion 
of  thunders  were  gathering  in  them  and  preparing  for  battle, 
growling  in  deep  tones  to  excite  the  rage  and  iury  in  their 
own  breasts  before  bursting  forth  and  wildly  striking  the 
terrified  world. 

"A  tempest!  a  tempest  is  coming!"  the  dragoons  muttered 
to  each  other. 

The  tempest  was  coming.  The  atmosphere  was  becoming 
momentarily  darker. 

Then  in  the  east  towards  the  Dniester  the  thunder  arose 
and  rolled  across  the  sky  with  a  dreadful  roar  till  it  died 
away  beyond  the  Pruth;  there  it  ceased  for  a  moment  but 
again  breaking  forth,  it  rolled  towards  the  steppes  of  Bud- 
ziak  and  along  the  whole  horizon. 

Big  drops  of  rain  began  to  fall  on  the  dried  grass.  At  that 
moment  Pan  Novovyeyski  stood  before  the  dragoons. 

"To  horse!"  he  cried  in  mighty  tones. 

/And  in  the  space  of  one  hurried  Pater  he  was  riding  at 
the  head  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  troopers  After  issuing  from 
the  wood  near  the  herd  of  horses  he  joined  the  other  half  of 
his  men  who  had  been  keeping  guard  at  the  side  of  the  mea- 
dowr  to  prevent  the  escape  of  any  of  the  herdsmen  from  the 
camp.  The  dragoons  darted  around  the  herd  in  the  twinkle 
of  an  eye,  uttering  shrill  cries  peculiar  to  the  Tartars,  and 
advanced  driving  the  panic-stricken  horses  before  them. 

The  sergeant  held  Elyashevich  with  a  lasso  and  shouted 
in  his  ear  trying  to  outroar  the  thunder: 

"Lead  the  way  dog-blood,  and  straight,  or  a  knife  in  your 
throat!" 

The  clouds  were  now  rolling  so  low  as  almost  to  touch  the 
earth.  Suddenly  they  burst  like  the  explosion  of  a  furnace 
and  a  furious  tempest  was  let  loose;  then  a  blinding  flash 
rent  the  darkness,  followed  by  a  clap  of  thunder  and  then  n 
second  and  a  third;  the  smell  of  sulphur  pervaded  the  at- 
mosphere and  again  there  was  gloom.  The  herd  of  horses 
was  seized  with  terror.  Driven  on  by  the  wild  cries  of  the 
dragoons  they  galloped  with  wide  nostrils  and  flying  manes 
scarcely  touching  the  earth  in  their  fight;  the  thunder 


PAN   MICHAEL.  421 

roared  continually  and  the  horses  rushed  madly  on  in  the 
wind  and  darkness  amid  explosions  in  which  the  earth  seemed 
to  be  breaking.  Driven  forward  by  the  storm  and  by  ven- 
geance, they  seemed  to  be  a  terrible  band  of  vampires  or  evil 
spirits  in  that  wild  steppe.  Space  vanished  in  front  of  them. 
There  was  no  need  of  a  guide,  for  the  herd  ran  direct  to 
the  Lipkov  camp  which  was  closer  and  closer.  But  before 
they  had  galloped  so  far  the  tempest  was  unchained  as  if 
earth  and  sky  had  gone  mad.  The  entire  heavens  blazed 
with  living  fire,  by  the  flash  of  which  the  tents  were  visible 
standing  on  the  steppe;  the  earth  was  trembling  with  the 
crash  of  thunder  and  it  seemed  as  if  at  any  moment  the 
clouds  might  burst  and  fall  upon  the  earth.  It  seemed  that 
their  sluices  were  opened  and  torrents  of  rain  began  to 
deluge  the  steppe.  The  downpour  was  so  dense  that  nothing 
was  visible  a  few  paces  distant  and  a  thick  mist  rose  from  the 
sunbaked  earth. 

The  herd  and  dragoons  will  soon  be  in  the  camp  now. 

But  immediately  in  front  of  the  tents  the  herd  divided  and 
dashed  to .  either  side  in  wild  panic;  three  hundred  throats 
uttered  a  frightful  yell;  three  hundred  sabres  glittered  in  the 
flash  of  the  lightning  and  the  dragoons  fell  upon  the  tents. 

Before  the  torrent  of  rain  burst,  the  Lipkovs  had  seen 
the  approaching  herd  in  the  glare  of  the  lightning;  but  none 
of  them  knew  what  terrible  herdsmen  were  driving  them. 
They  were  seized  with  amazement  and  alarm  and  wondered 
why  the  herd  was  rushing  direct  for  the  tents  and  then  they 
began  to  shout  to  frighten  them  away.  Azya,  the  son  of 
Tukhay  Bey,  pushed  aside  his  canvas  door  and  not  withstand- 
ing the  rain  he  went  out  with  anger  on  his  scowling  face. 
But  at  that  moment  the  herd  divided  and  amid  the  torrents 
of  rain  appeared  savage  forms,  black  and  much  more  nu- 
merous than  the  horse-herds;  and  then  was  heard  the  terrible 
cry: 

"Smite!   kill!    ...  j 

There  was  no  time  for  anything:  not  even  to  guess  what 
had  happened,  nor  even  to  be  frightened.  The  whirlwind 
of  men,  far  more  dreadful  and  raging  than  the  storm, 
swooped  on  the  camp.  Before  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  could 
take  one  step  back  to  his  tent  he  was  snatched  up  with  a  force 
that  seemed  superhuman.  Suddenly  he  felt  crushed  in  a 
terrible  embrace  till  his  hours  lu'iil  and  his  ribs  broke  from 
the  pressure;  then,  as  though  through  a  mist,  he  saw  a  face 


MICHAEL. 

to  which  he  would  have  preferred  to  see  that  of  Satan,  and 
he  swooned. 

By  that  time  the  fight,  or  rather  the  ghastly  slaughter,  had 
commenced.  The  tempest,  the  gloom,  the  unknown  number 
of  the  assailants,  the  suddeness  of  the  attack  and  the  dis- 
persion of  the  horses  were  the  causes  of  the  faint  resistance 
of  the  Lipkovs.  They  were  simply  seized  with  the  madness 
of  terror.  No  one  knew  in  what  direction  to  escape  or  where 
to  hide.  Many  of  them  had  no  weapons  at  hand  and  the 
attack  found  many  others  asleep.  They  therefore  masted 
together,  stunned,  bewildered,  and  terrified,  jostling,  up- 
setting and  trampling  each  other.  They  were  driven  back 
and  overthrown  by  the  chests  of  the  horses  and  slashed  by 
sabres  and  mashed  by  hoofs.  No  tempest  breaks,  destroys, 
and  lays  waste  a  young  forest,  no  wolves  rend  a  flock  of  be- 
wildered sheep  as  the  dragoons  trampled  and  cut  down  those 
Lipkovs.  Bewilderment  on  the  one  hand,  and  fury  and 
vengeance  on  the  other,  filled  the  measure  of  their  misfor- 
tune. Torrents  of  blood  mingled  with  the  rain.  It  seemed 
to  the  Lipkovs  as  if  the  heavens  were  falling  upon  them  and 
the  earth  was  opening  under  th^ir  feet.  The  flashing  of 
the  lightning,  the  roar  of  the  thunder,  the  rush  of  the  rain, 
and  the  terror  of  the  tempest  answered  the  awful  cries  of 
the  slain.  The  horses  of  the  dragoons  also,  maddened  with 
fright  dashed  into  the  throng,  breaking  and  casting  men 
to  the  earth.  At  length  the  smaller  groups  began  to  take 
to  flight,  but  they  had  so  lost  their  bearings  that  they  ran 
about  on  the  field  of  strife  instead  of  fleeing  straight  r.head, 
and  they  frequently  collided  like  two  opposing  waves  and 
upset  each  other  and  fell  under  the  sword.  At  last  the  dra- 
goons completely  scattered  what  was  left  of  them  and  slew 
them  in  the  rout,  taking  no  prisoners  and  mercilessly  pur~ 
suing  them  till  the  trumpets  recalled  them  from  the  pursuit. 

Never  was  an  attack  more  unexpected,  nor  a  calamity  more 
dreadful.  Three  hundred  men  had  scattered  to  the  four 
winds  of  the  earth  nearly  two  thousand  picked  cavalry  whose 
training  was  incomparably  superior  to  un  ordinary  chambul. 
The  majority  of  them  were  prostrate  in  red  pools  of  blood 
and  rain.  The  rest  had  dispersed  and  hid  their  heads,  thanks 
to  the  darkness,  and  escaped  on  foot  at  random,  uncertain 
whether  they  would  run  under  the  blade  a  second  time.  The 
victors  were  'aided  by  the  tempest  and  darkness,  as  though 
the  wrath  of  the  Lord  were  fighting  on  their  side  against 
traitors. 


PAN   MICHAEL.     •  423 

Night  had  entirely  fallen  when  Pan  ISTovovyeyaM  started 
at  the  head  of  his  dragoons  to  return  to  the  frontier  of  the 
Commonwealth.  A  horse  from  the  herd  moved  between  the 
young  lieutenant  and  sergeant  Lusnia.  On  the  back  of  this 
horse,  bound  with  cords,  lay  the  leader  of  all  the  Lipkov 
Tartars,  Azya,  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  swooning  and  with 
broken  ribs. 

They  both  looked  at  him  from  time  to  time  as  carefully 
and  anxiously  as  if  they  were  carrying  a  treasure  and  were 
afraid  of  losing  it. 

The  storm  began  to  abate.  In  the  sky  heaps  of  clouds 
were  still  scurrying,  but  in  the  rents  between  them  the  stars 
were  beginning  to  shine  and  be  reflected  in  pools  of  water 
formed  on  the  steppes  by  the  heavy  rain.  In  the  distance 
towards  the  frontier  of  the  Commonwealth  thunder  still  oc- 
casionally rumbling. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

I       The  fugitive  Lipkovs  carried  the  news  of  the  disaster  to 
I  the  Byalogrod  horde.     From  them  couriers  took  the  tidings 
on  to  the   Ortu-i-Humayun — that   is,   to   the   camp   of   the 
Padishah, — where  it  made  a  sensation. 

Pan  Novovyeyski  had  no  need  to  make  such  haste  to  flee 
with  his  booty  to  the  Commonwealth,  for  the  fact  was  that 
not  only  was  he  not  pursued  at  once,  but  also  for  the  two 
following  days.  The  Sultan  was  so  amazed  that  he  did  not 
know  what  to  do.  He  immediately  despatched  Byalogrod 
and  Dobrudja  chambuls  to  ascertain  what  forces  were  in  the 
neighborhood.  They  went  unwillingly,  for  with  them  it  was 
a  question  of  their  own  skins.  Meanwhile  the  news  spread 
from  lip  to  lip  and  assumed  the  proportions  of  a  considerable 
calamity.  Men  from  the  depths  of  Asia  and  Africa  who  had 
not  hitherto  fought  against  the  Poles,  and  who  had  heard 
tales  of  the  terrible  cavalry  of  the  unbelievers,  were  terrified 
at  the  thought  that  they  were  already  face  to  face  with  that 
foe  who  did  not  wait  for  them  within  his  own  boundaries,  but 
sought  them  in  the  very  dominions  of  the  Padishah;  the  grand 
vizir  himself,  and  the  "Rising  Sun  of  War,"  the  kaimakan, 
Black  Mustafa,  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  the  attack 
either.  ISTo  Turkish  head  could  explain  how  that  Common- 
wealth, of  whose  weakness  they  had  heard  so  much  could 
suddenly  make  an  attack.  It  is  sufficient  that  thenceforth 
the  march  seemed  less  safe  and  an  easy  triumph  less  probable. 
At  the  council  of  war  the  Sultan  received  the  vizir  and  kai- 
makan with  a  terrible  countenance. 

I  "You  have  deceived  me/'  he  said.  "The  Poles  cannot  be 
so  feeble,  since  they  seek  us  even  here.  You  told  me  that 
Sobieski  would  not  defend  Kamenets,  and  now  he  is  certainly 
facing  us  with  his  whole  army  .  .  ." 

The  vizir  and  kaimakan  tried  to  explain  to  their  master 
that  this  might  be  some  detached  party  of  marauders,  but 
they  did  not  believe  that  themselves  in  view  of  the  muskets 
and  straps  holding  the  dragoon-jackets.  Sobieski's  late  ex- 

(424) 


PAN    MICHAEL. 

pedition  to  the  Ukraine,  which  was  daring  beyond  measure 
and  yet  victorious,  permitted  the  supposition  that  on  this 
occasion  also  that  terrible  leader  meant  to  be  beforehand  with 
the  enemy. 

"He  has  no  troops/7  said  the  grand  vizir  as  they  left  the 
council;  "but  in  him  there  is  a  lion  that  knows  no  fear.  If 
he  has  asembled  even  a  few  thousand  and  is  here,  we  shall 
wade  in  blood  to  Khotsim." 

"I  should  like  to  measure  my  strength  with  him,"  said 
young  Black  Mustafa. 

"May  God  preserve  you  from  misfortune!"  replied  the 
grand  vizir. 

Gradually  however  the  Byalogrod  and  Dobrudja  chambuls 
became  satisfied  that  not  only -were  there  no  large  bodies  of 
troops,  but  none  at  all  in  the  neighborhood.  They  discovered 
the  trail  of  a  party  of  about  three  hundred  horse  that  had 
hastened  towards  the  Dniester.  The  Horde,  remembering 
the  fate  of  Azya's  men,  made  no  pursuit  for  fear  of  an  am- 
bush. The  attack  remained  as  something  amazing  and  in- 
explicable, but  gradually,  tranquillity  was  restored  to  the 
Ortu-i-Humayun  and  the  hosts  of  the  Padishah  again  began, 
to  advance  like  a  flood. 

In  the  meantime  Pan  Novovyeyski  was  returning  in  safety 
with  his  living  booty  to  Piashkov.  He  made  haste,  but  as  ex- 
perienced scouts  ascertained  on  the  second  day  that  there  was 
no  pursuit,  notwithstanding  his  haste  he  moved  slowly  enough 
not  to  overtire  the  horses.  Azya,  bound  with  cords  to  the 
back  of  the  horse,  was  always  between  Novovyeyski  and 
Lusnia.  He  had  two  broken  ribs  and  grew  extremely  weak, 
for  even  the  wound  inflicted  by  Basia  in  his  face  opened  in 
his  struggle  with  Pan  Adam  and  from  riding  face  downwards. 
The  terrible  sergeant  was  careful  not  to  let  him  die  before 
reaching  Rashkov  and  thus  escape  their  vengeance.  The 
young  Tartar  wished  to  die.  Knowing  what  was  awaiting 
him,  he  first  tried  to  kill  himself  with  hunger  and  refused  to 
take  food;  but  Lusnia  opened  his  clenched  teeth  with  a  knife 
and  forced  down  his  throat  gorzalka  and  Moldavian  wine 
.mixed  with  ground  biscuits.  When  they  halted  they  threw 
water  on  his  face,  so  that  the  wounds  of  his  eye  and  nose,  on 
which  flies  had  thickly  settled  during  the  journey,  should  not 
mortify  and  bring  death  to  the  ill-fated  villain. 

Pan  Adam  did  not  speak  to  him  along  the  way.  Only 
once,  at  the  beginning  of  the  journey,  when  Azya  offered  to 


426 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


restore  Zosia  and  Eva  as  the  price  of  life  and  liberty,  the  lieu- 
tenant cried: 

"Thou  liest,  dog!  Thou  hast  sold  them  to  a  merchant  of 
Stambul  who  will  re-sell  them  in  the  bazaar." 

And  immediately  they  brought  forward  Elyashevich  who 
repeated  in  the  presence  of  everybody: 

"It  is  so,  Effendi.  You  sold  her  without  knowing  to 
whom;  and  Adurovich  sold  the  bagadir's  sister  although  she 
was  with  child  by  him." 

After  these  words  for  awhile  Azya  thought  that  Xovovyey- 
ski  would  crush  him  at  once  in  his  terrible  grip. 

Afterwards,  when  he  had  lost  all  hope,  h'e  determined  to 
provoke  the  young  giant  to  kill  him  in  a  transport  of  fury  and 
so  escape  future  torments.  Since  Novovyeyski  did  not  want 
to  let  his  captive  out  of  his  sight  and  always  rode  near  him, 
Azya  began  to  indulge  in  boundless  and  shameless  boasts  of 
his  deeds.  He  told  how  he  had  slaughtered  old  Novovyeyski, 
and  kept  Zosia  Boska  in  his  tent,  and  gloated  over  her  inno- 
cence, and  lacerated  her  body  with  rods,  and  kicked  her.  The 
sweat  rolled  down  Pan  Adam's  pale  face  in  great  drops.  He 
listened  and  could  not  and  did  not  want  to  go  away.  He 
listened  eagerly,  his  hands  trembled,  his  body  shook  convul- 
sively; but  he  conquered  himself  and  did  not  slay. 

But  while  Azya  tortured  his  enemy  he  also  tortured  him- 
self, for  the  tales  he  told  reminded  him  of  his  present  mis- 
fortunes. A  few  days  ago  he  was  in  command  of  men  and 
living  in  luxury,  a  mnrza,  and  a  favorite  of  the  young  kai- 
makan,  and  now,  bound  to  the  back  of  a  horse  and  eaten  alive 
by  flies,  he  was  going  to  a  terrible  death.  Relief  came  when 
he  swooned  with  the  pain  of  his  wounds  and  with  suffering. 
This  increased  in  frequency  till  Lusnia  began  to  fear  that  he 
might  not  get  him  back  alive.  But  they  travelled  night  and 
day  and  only  allowed  the  horses  what  rest  was  absolutely 
necessary  and  Rashkov  came  nearer  and  nearer.  .  Still  the 
horned  soul  of  the  Tartar  would  not  leave  his  afflicted  body. 
Instead  of  that  his  body  was  in  a  continual  fever  during  the 
last  days,  and  sometimes  he  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  More  than 
once  in  that  sleep  or  delirium  he  dreamed  that  he  was  still  at 
Khreptyov  and  that  he  had  to  accompany  Volodiyovski  to  a 
great  war;  again  that  he  was  escorting  Basia  to  Rashkov,  or 
again  that  he  had  carried  her  off  and  hidden  her  in  his  tent; 
sometimes  in  his  fever  he  saw  battles  and  slaughter  where  he 
was  issuing  orders  beneath  his  bunchuk  as  the  Hetman  of  the 


PAN   MICHAEL.  427 

Polish  Tartars.  But  awaking  came  and  consciousness  with 
it.  Opening  his  eyes  he  saw  the  faces  of  Novovyeyski  and 
Lusnia  and  the  shakos  of  the  dragoons  who  had  cast  off  the 
sheepskin  caps  of  the  horseherds,  and  the  reality  was  so  hor- 
rible that  it  really  appeared  a  nightmare.  Each  motion  of 
the  horse  tortured  him,  his  wounds  burned  more  and  more 
and  he  fainted  again.  Transfixed  with  agony  he  again  re- 
turned to  consciousness  only  to  fall  into  delirious  dreams  and 
wake  again. 

There  were  moments  when  it  seemed  impossible  that  this 
miserable  being  could  be  Azya  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey;  that 
his  life  so  full  of  unusual  occurrences,  and  promise  of  a  high 
destiny,  was  to  come  to  such  a  sudden  and  terrible  end. 

Sometimes  also  it  came  into  his  mind  that  after  torture  and 
death  he  would  go  straight  to  Paradise;  but,  because  he  had 
once  professed  Christianity  and  long  lived  among  Christians, 
he  was  seized  with  fear  at  the  thought  of  Christ.  Christ 
would  have  no  pity  on  him  and  if  the  Prophet  were  mightier 
than  Christ  he  would  not  have  delivered  him  into  the  hands 
of  Pan  Novovyeyski.  Perhaps,  however,  the  Prophet  would 
still  have  mercy  and  take  away  his  soul  before  he  was  tortured 
to  death. 

Meanwhile  Rashkov  was  near.  They  entered  the  cliff  dis- 
trict that  indicated  the  vicinity  of  the  Dniester.  In  the  even- 
ing Azya  fell  into  a  half-delirious,  half-conscious  state,  in 
which  illusions  and  reality  were  mingled.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  they  had  arrived  and  come  to  a  halt  and  around  him  he 
heard  the  wor£s  "Rashkov!  Rashkov!"  Then  he  thought  he 
heard  the  sound  of  axes  cutting  wood. 

Then  he  felt  that  people  were  dashing  water  on  his  head 
and  then  for  some  time  they  kept  pouring  gorzalka  down  his 
throat.  After  that  he  completely  recovered  his  senses.  A 
starry  xnght  was  above  him  and  many  torches  were  flaring 
about  him.  He  heard  the  following  words: 

"Is  he  conscious ?" 

"Conscious.     He  seems  in  his  right  mind  .  .    " 

At  that  moment  he  saw  Lusnia's  face  above  him. 

"Well,  brother,"  said  the  sergeant  in  a  quiet  voice.  "Thy 
hour  has  come." 

Azya  was  lying  on  his  back  and  breathing  freely,  for  his 
arms  were  extended  above  his  head,  on  account  of  which  his 
expanded  breast  rose  freely  and  received  more  air  than  when 
he  was  lying  bound  to  the  back  of  the  horse.  But  he  could 


428  PAH   MICHAEL. 

not  move  his  arms,  for  they  were  tied  to  an  oak  staff  placed 
along  his  shoulders  and  were  tied  with  straw  dipped  in  tar. 
The  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  instantly  divined  the  reason  of  this 
but  at  the  same  moment  he  also  noted  other  preparations  that 
told  him  that  his  torture  would  be  protracted  and  horrible. 
He  was  stripped  from  his  waist  to  his  feet,  and  slightly  raising 
his  head,  between  his  bare  knees  he  saw  a  freshly-cut,  pointed 
stake,  the  butt  of  which  was  set  against  the  stump  of  a  tree. 
From  each  of  Azya's  feet  extended  a  rope  leading  to  a  whiffile- 
tree  to  which  a  horse  was  attached.  By  the  light  of  the 
torches  Azya  could  only  see  the  rumps  of  the  horses  and  two 
men  standing  a  little  farther  off  who  were  evidently  holding 
the  horses  by  the  mouth. 

The  hapless  villain  took  in  these  preparations  at  a  glance; 
then,  for  some  unknown  reason,  looking  at  the  sky,  he  saw 
the  stars  and  the  shining  crescent  of  the  moon. 

"They  will  drag  me  on,"  he  thought. 

And  he  immediately  clenched  his  teeth  so  firmly  that  his 
jaws  were  seized  with  a  spasm.  Sweat  broke  out  on  his  brow 
and  at  the  same  moment  his  face  grew  cold  as  all  the  blood 
left  it.  Then  he  felt  as  if  the  earth  were  fleeing  from  under 
him  and  his  body  were  flying  on  and  on  through  some  bound- 
less abyss.  For  a  time  he  lost  all  consciousness  of  time  and 
space,  and  what  they  were  doing  to  him.  The  sergeant  opened 
Azya's  mouth  with  a  knife  and  poured  in  some  more  gorzalka. 

He  coughed  and  spat  out  the  fiery  liquor,  but  was  forced  to 
swallow  some  of  it.  Then  he  fell  into  a  very  strange  state: 
he  was  not  intoxicated;  on  the  contrary,  his  brain  had  never 
been  clearer  nor  his  mind  more  active,  He  saw  what  they 
were  doing  and  comprehended  it  all;  but  he  was  seized  with  a 
strange  land  of  excitement,  an  impatience  that  it  was  taking 
so  long  and  that  as  yet  nothing  was  beginning. 

Then  heavy  steps  were  heard  approaching  and  Pan  Novovv- 
eyski  stood  before  him.  At  the  sight  of  him  every  vein  in 
the  Tartar's  body  quivered.  He  did  not  fear  Lusnia  as  h« 
despised  him  too  much.  But  he  did  not  despise  Pan  Adam; 
indeed  he  had  no  reason  to  do  so;  on  the  contrary,  every 
glance  of  his  eye  filled  Azya  with  a  certain  superstitious  terror 
and  aversion.  At  that  moment  he  thought  to  himself,  "Lamin 
his  power;  I  fear  him!"  and  this  was  such  a  terrible  feeling 
that  the  hair  of  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  stood  upright  on  his 
head. 

And  ISTovovyeyski  said: 

"For  what  thou  hast  done  them  shalt  perish  in  torture/' 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


429 


The  Lipkov  made  no  reply  but  began  to  pant  audibly. 

Novovyeyski  departed  and  a  silence  followed  that  was 
broken  by  Lusnia: 

"Thou  didst  raise  thy  hand  against  the  lady,"  he  cried  in 
hoarse  tones,  "but  now  the  lady  is  at  home  with  her  husband 
and  thou  art  in  our  hands.  Thy  hour  has  come." 

With  these  words  Azya's  tortures  commenced.  That  ter- 
rible being  at  the  hour  of  his  death  learned  that  his  treachery 
and  cruelty  had  been  of  no  avail.  Even  if  Basia  had  died  on 
the  road  he  would  have  been  consoled  by  the  thought  that 
even  if  she  was  not  his  still  she  would  not  belong  to  anyone 
else  and  he  was  deprived  of  that  consolation  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  the  point  of  the  stake  was  within  an  ell's  length 
of  his  body.  All  had  been  in  vain.  So  many  treasons,  so 
much  blood,  such  great  impending  punishment  for  nothing, — • 
for  nothing  at  all.  .  .  Lusnia  had  no  idea  how  death  had 
been  embittered  to  Azya  by  those  words;  if  he  had  known  he 
would  have  repeated  them  all  along  the  way. 

But  there  was  no  time  for  regrets  now;  everything  must 
yield  to  the  execution.  Lusnia  stooped  down  and  seizing 
both  hips  he  placed  them  in  position  and  called  cut  to  the 
men  who  were  holding  the  horses: 

"Move  on,  but  slowly,  and  together!" 

The  horses  moved  forward;  the  ropes  became  taut  and  pul- 
led Azya's  legs.  %  In  an  instant  his  body  was  dragged  along 
the  earth  and  reached  the  point  of  the  stake.  Then  the  point 
began  to  penetrate  him  and  something  horrible  began, — • 
something  repugnant  to  nature  and  humanity.  The  bones 
of  the  wretch  separated;  his  body  parted  in  two  directions;  in- 
describable agony,  so  awful  as  almost  to  verge  on  some  mon- 
strous delight,  passed  through  him.  The  stake  sank  deeper 
and  deeper.  Azya  set  his  teeth,  but  could  not  endure  it;  his 
teeth  were  bared  in  a  horrible  grin  and  from  his  throat  came 
a  noise  like  the  croak  of  a  raven:  "Ah!  ah!  ah!" 

"Slowly!"  the  sergeant  ordered. 

Then  he  shouted  to  the  men: 

"Pull  together!  Stop!  There,  it  is  finished." 

And  he  turned  towards  Azya  who  had  suddenly  become 
silent  except  for  a  deep  rattle  in  his  throat. 

The  horses  were  quickly  unhitched;  then  the  stake  was  set 
up  and  planted  with  the  thick  end  in  a  hole  prepared  for  it 
and  earth  was  packed  round  it.  The  son  of  Tukhay  Bey 
looked  down  on  the  work.  He  was  conscious.  This  norrible 
species  of  punishment  was  the  more  awful  in  that  the  victims 


PAN    MICHAEL. 

of  impalement  sometimes  lingered  for  three  days.  Azya's 
head  was  bowed  on  his  breast;  his  lips  were  moving  and 
smacking  as  if  he  were  tasting  something.  He  then  experi- 
enced extreme  faintness  and  saw  a  kind  of  thick  grey  mist 
before  his  eyes  which  seemed  dreadful  for  some  reason  or 
other,  and  in  this  mist  he  recognized  the  faces  of  the  sergeant 
and  the  dragoons  and  saw  that  he  was  on  the  stake  and  that 
the  weight  of  his  own  body  was  sinking  him  deeper  and 
deeper.  Then  he  began  to  get  numb  from  the  feet  upwards 
and  less  and  less*  sensitive  to  pain. 

Sometimes  that  grey  mist  became  obscured  and  then  he 
would  blink  with  his  sound  eye  in  the  desire  to  witness  every- 
thing before  his  death.  His  gaze  wandered  persistently  from 
torch  to  torch,  for  it  seemed  that  there  was  a  rainbow  circle 
round  each  flame. 

But  his  tortures  were  not  over:  presently  the  sergeant  ap- 
proached the  stake  with  an  augur  in  his  hand  and  cried  to 
those  about: 

"Lift  me  up." 

Two  strong  men  hoisted  him.  Azya  began  to  watch  him 
narrowly,  blinking,  as  if  trying  to  find  out  what  kind  of  man 
was  climbing  up  to  his  elevation.  Then  the  sergeant  said: 

"The  lady  knocked  out  one  eye,  and  I  vowed  to  bore  out 
the  other."  * 

Then  he  drove  the  point  into  the  pupil  and  gave  a  couple 
of  twists  and,  when  the  lid  and  delicate  skin  surrounding  the 
eye  were  wound  round  the  thread  of  the  augur,  he  gave  a  jerk. 

Then  two  streams  of  blood  gushed  from  Azya's  eye-sockets 
and  flowed  down  his  cheeks  like  two  streams  of  tears. 

His  face  grew  paler  and  paler.  The  dragoons  extinguished 
the  torches  in  silence  as  if  ashamed  that  light  should  shine  on 
such  a  dreadful  deed,  and  from  the  moon's  crescent  fell  faint 
silvery  rays  on  Azya's  body.  His  head  bowed  low  on  his 
breast;  but  his  hands,  bound  to  the  oak  staff  and  wrapped  in 
straw  dipped  in  tar,  were  pointed  upwards  to  the  sky,  as  if 
that  son  of  the  Orient  were  calling  down  the  vengeance  of  the 
Turkish  crescent  on  his  executioners. 

"To  horse!"  was  heard  from  Pan  Adam. 

Before  mounting,  with  the  last  torch  the  sergeant  set  fire 
to  those  uplifted  hands  of  the  Tartar,  and  the  detachment 
took  their  way  towards  Yampol.  Amid  the  ruins  of  Rashkov 
in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  the  desert,  Azya,  the  son  of 
Tukhay  Bey,  remained  on  the  lofty  stake  and  gleamed 
for  a  long  time. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

Three  weeks  later  at  noon  Pan  Novovyeyski  was  at  Khrept- 
yov.  He  had  been  so  slow  in  making  the  journey  from  Rash- 
kov,  because  he  had  frequently  crossed  to  the  other  bank  of 
the  Dnieper  to  attack  the  chambuls  and  perkulabs  of  the  Sul- 
tan's forces  at  various  stanitsas.  Afterwards  the  latter  in- 
formed the  Sultan's  forces  that  they  had  seen  Polish  detach- 
ments everywhere,  and  had  heard  of  great  armies  that  would 
certainly  not  await  the  coming  of  the  Turks  at  Kamenets,  but 
would  oppose  their  advance  and  measure  themselves  with 
them  in  a  general  battle. 

The  Sultan,  who  had  been  assured  of  the  helplessness  of  the 
Commonwealth,  was  amazed,  and  sending  Lipkovs,  Wal- 
lachians,  and  Danubian  hordes  in  advance,  he  slowly  moved 
forward,  for,  notwithstanding  his  overwhelming  strength,  he 
dreaded  a  battle  with  the  armies  of  the  Commonwealth. 

Pan  Adam  did  not  find  Volodiyovski  at  Khreptyov,  as  the 
little  knight  had  followed  Motovidlo  to  assist  the  governor  of 
Podlasia  -against  the  Crimean  horde  and  Doroshenko.  There 
he  gained  great  victories  and  added  fresh  glory  to  his  ancient 
renown.  He  defeated  the  grim  Korpan  and  left  his  body  as 
food  for  beasts  on  the  wild  fields;  he  crushed  the  terrible 
Drozd,  and  the  doughty  Malyshka,  and  the  two  brothers  Siny, 
famous  Cossack  warriors,  besides  many  smaller  bands  and 
chambuls. 

But  when  Pan  Adam  arrived,  Pani  Volodiyovska  was  just 
making  preparations  to  accompany  the  rest  of  the  people  and 
the  tabor  to  Kamenets,  for  the  invasion  made  it  necessary  to 
abandon  Khreptyov.  Basia  was  grieved  to  leave  that  wooden 
fort  where  she  had  experienced  many  adventures,  it  is  true, 
but  where  the  happiest  part  of  her  life  had  been  spent  with 
her  husband  and  in  the  midst  of  brave  soldiers  and  loving 
ones.  At  her  own  request  she  was  now  going  to  Kamenets, 
to  the  unknown  fortunes  and  perils  incident  to  a  siege. 

But  since  she  had  a  masculine  spirit  she  did  not  give  way 
to  grief,  but  carefully  supervised  the  preparations  for  the 

(431) 


432  PAN 

benefit  of  the  soldiers  and  the  tabor.  In  this  she  was  assisted 
by  Pan  Zagloba,  who  in  every  adventure  surpassed  everybody 
in  capability,  and  by  Pan  Mushalski,  the  matchless  archer, 
who  was  moreover  a  soldier  of  dexterous  hand  and  incom- 
parable experience. 

Everybody  was  delighted  at  the  arrival  of  Pan  Adam,  al- 
though the  face  of  the  knight  at  once  revealed  that  he  had 
not  freed  Evka,  nor  the  sweet  Zosia  from  Pagan  captivity. 
Basia  bewailed  the  fate  of  the  two  ladies  with  bitter  tears, 
since  they  must  now  be  regarded  as  finally  lost.  Sold  to  they 
knew  not  whom,  they  might  be  carried  from  the  bazaars  of 
Stambul,  to  Asia  Minor,  or  to  islands  under  the  Turkish 
dominion,  or  to  Egypt,  and  there  be  locked  up  in  harems; 
thus  it  was  not  only  impossible  to  ransom  them,  but  even  to 
learn  where  they  were. 

Basia  wept,  and  so  did  the  wise  Zagloba,  and  even  the 
matchless  archer,  Mushalski.  Pan  ISTovovyeyski's  eyes  alone 
were  dry,  for  tears  had  already  failed  him.  But  when  he  re- 
lated how  he  had  gone  down  as  far  as  Tekich  on  the  Danube 
and  cut  the  Lipkovs  to  pieces  by  the  side  of  the  horde  and  the 
Sultan,  and  had  captured  Azya,  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey,  the 
evil  enemy,  the  two  old  men  clattered  theii  sabres  and  said: 

"Give  him  to  us!    He  should  die  here  in  Khreptyov." 

^ot  in  Khreptyov,"  Pan  Adam  replied.  "Rashkov  is  the 
,;--£Oe  where  he  perished,  that  is  the  place  where  he  should  die; 
Sad  the  sergeant  here  found  for  him  a  torture  that  was  not 


len  he  described  the  death  by  which  Azya  had  died  and 
they  listened  with  terror,  but  without  pity. 

"It  is  well  known  that  the  Lord  God  pursues  crime,  at  last 
said  Zagloba;  "but  it  is  wonderful  how  poorly  the  Devil  pro- 
tects his  servants." 

Basia  sighed  piously  and  raised  her  eyes  and  said,  after  a 
short  meditation: 

"That  is  because  he  lacks  the  power  to  withstand  the  might 
of  the  Lord." 

"Ah,  you  have  said  it,"  remarked  Pan  Mushalski,  "for  if 
the  Devil  were  more  powerful  than  the  Lord,  which  God  for- 
bid! all  justice  would  disappear  and  the  Commonwealth 
with  it." 

"I  do  not  fear  the  Turks,  in  the  first  place  because  they 
are  such  sons,  and  in  the  second  because  they  are  children 
of  Belial,"  Zagloba  replied, 


PAN    MICHAEL. 


433 


For  a  time  all  were  silent.  Pan  Adam  sat  on  the  bench 
with  his  hands  on  his  knees  looking  at  the  floor  with  glassy 
c-yes.  Then  Pan  Mushalski  turned  to  him  and  said: 

"It  must  have  been  of  some  relief,"  he  said,  "for  it  is  a 
groat  consolation  to  wreak  a  righteous  vengeance." 

"Tell  us,  has  it  really  relieved  your  mind?  Do  you  feel 
better  now?"  asked  Basia  with  a  voice  full  of  pity. 

The  giant  was  silent  for  awhile  as  though  struggling  with 
his  own  thoughts;  at  last  he  said,  as  though  greatly  wonder- 
ing, and  in  a  voice  that  was  almost  a  whisper: 

"Just  imagine!  As  God  is  dear  to  me,  I  thought  I  should 
feel  better  if  I  were  to  kill  him.  ...  I  saw  him  on  the 
stake,  I  saw  him  when  his  eye  was  bored  out,  and  I  told  myself 
that  I  felt  better;  but  it  is  not  true,  not  true."  .  .  . 

Here  'Pan  Adam  put  his  suffering  head  in  his  hands  and 
muttered  through  his  clenched  teeth: 

"It  was  better  for  him  on  the  stake,  better  with  the  auger 
in  his  eye,  better  with  the  flames  on  his  hands,  than  it  is  for 
me  with  what  abides  in  me,  and  thinks,  and  remembers. 
Death  is  my  only  consolation;  death,  death." 

Basia's  brave  and  martial  spirit  rose  at  his  words,  and  sud- 
denly laying  her  hand  on  the  head  of  the  miserable  man,  she 
said : 

"God  grant  it  to  you  at  Kamenets;  for  as  you  truly  say,  it  is 
the  only  consolation." 

Then  he  shut  his  eyes  and  repeated: 

"Oh,  that  is  true!  that  is  true!  God  repay  you!"    .    .    . 

They  all  set  out  for  Kamenets  the  same  evening. 

After  passing  through  the  gate  Basia  turned  and  gazed  long 
and  lingeringly  at  the  fort  gleaming  in  the  evening  glow;  at 
last  she  crossed  herself  and  said: 

"God  grant  that  we  may  be  allowed  to  return  with  Michael 
to  thee,  dear  Khreptyov!  .  .  .  God  grant  that  nothing 
worse  be  in  store  for  us." 

And  two  tears  rolled  down  her  rosy  face.  Every  heart  was 
oppressed  with  a  strange  sense  of  sorrow,  and  they  moved  on 
silently. 

Meanwhile  darkness  fell. 

They  advanced  slowly  towards  Kamenets  on  account  of  the 
tabor.  It  included  wagons,  herds  of  horses,  bullocks,  buffa- 
loes, camels,  and  camp-followers  who  attended  the  herds. 
Some  of  the  servants  and  soldiers  had  married  at  Khreptyov 
and  so  there  was  no  lack  of  women  in  the  tabor.  There  were 
88 


434  FAN    MICHAEL. 

the  troops  of  Pan  Adam's  command,  besides  two  hundred 
Hungarian  infantry  that  the  little  knight  had  equipped  at  his 
own  chajge,  and  trained.  Basia  was  their  patron;  and  Ka- 
lushevski,  a  good  officer  led  them.  It  included  no  real  Hun- 
garians,, it  received  the  name  only  because  it  had  a  Magyar 
uniform.  The  inferior  officers  were  veterans  of  the  dragoons; 
but  the  ranks  were  composed  of  murderers  and  bandits  who 
had  been  condemned  to  the  rope.  They  were  reprieved  on 
condition  of  joining  the  infantry  and  blotting  out  their  past 
iniquities  with  loyalty  and  valor.  Among  them  also  were  vol- 
unteers who  had  left  their  ravines,  fields,  and  other  robber 
haunts  to  take  service  at  Khreptyov  under  the  Little  Falcon 
rather  than  have  his  sword  hanging  over  their  heads.  These 
men  were  not  very  tractable,  nor  sufficiently  trained  as  yet; 
but  they  were  brave  and  inured  to  hardship,  danger,  and 
bloodshed.  Basia  was  very  fond  of  this  infantry  as  of 
Michael's  child;  and  the  wild  hearts  of  the  warriors  soon  con- 
ceived a  devotion  for  the  wonderful  and  kind  lady.  They 
were  now  marching  beside  her  carriage  with  muskets  on  their 
shoulders  and  sabres  at  their  side,  proud  to  guard  the  lady, 
and  ready  to  defend  her  to  the  death  should  any  chambul 
bar  her  road. 

But  the  road  was  still  open,  for  Pan  Michael  was  more  far- 
sighted  than  others,  and,  moreover,  he  loved  his  wife  too 
much  to  expose  her  to  danger  by  delay.  The  journey  there- 
for was  a  quiet  one.  They  left  Khreptyov  in  the  afternoon 
and  travelled  that  evening  and  all  night  and  the  next  day  they 
gaw  the  high  cliffs  of  Kamenets. 

When  they  saw  them  and  the  bastions  of  the  fort  crowning 
the  cliffs  they  at  once  were  greatly  comforted;  for  it  looked 
unlikely  to  them  for  any  but  the  hand  of  God  to  destroy 
that  eagle's  nest  on  the  summit  of  jutting  cliffs,  and  sur- 
rounded by  the  bend  of  the  river.  It  was  a  lovely  summer 
day.  The  towers  of  the  churches,  peeping  over  the  cliffs, 
shone  like  enormous  lights  and  that  spot  seemed  steeped  in 
peace,  serenity,  and  gladness. 

"Bashka,"  cried  Zagloba,  "the  Infidels  have  gnawed  at 
those  walls  on  more  than  one  occasion  and  have  always  broken 
their  teeth  on  them.  Ah,  how  often  have  I  myself  seen  them 
flee,  holding  themselves  by  the  snout  in  their  agony!  God 
grant  it  may  be  so  this  time!" 

"Surely  it  will,"  answered  the  radiant  Basia. 

"Osman,  one  of  their  Sultans,  was  here.    I  remember  as  if 


PAN   MICHAEL.  435 

it  were  to-day;  it  was  in  the  year  1621.  He  came  himself,  the 
scoundrel,  just  there  from  that  side  of  the  Smotrych,  from 
Khotsim,  stared,  and  gaped,  and  stared,  and  stared,  and  at 
last  asked,  'Who  fortified  that  place  like  that?'  'The  Lord 
God/  the  vizir  replied.  'Then  let  the  Lord  God  take  it,  for 
I  am  no  fool!'  And  immediately  he  returned." 

"Bah!  they  returned  in  a  hurry!"  interrupted  Pan  Mush- 
alsM. 

"They  turned  back  quickly,"  cried  Zagloha,  "because  we 
kicked  them  in  the  weak  side  with  our  lances,  and  afterwards 
the  knighthood  carried  me  to  Pan  Lubomirski." 

"Were  you  at  Khotsim  then?"  asked  the  matchless  archer. 
"I  can  scarcely  believe  that  there  is  anywhere  where  you  have 
not  been,  or  anything  you  have  not  done." 

Pan  Zagloba  was  rather  annoyed,  and  replied: 

"Not  only  was  I  there,  but  I  received  a  wound  that  I  can 
show  you,  if  you  care  to  see  it;  I  can  do  so  immediately,  but 
we  must  retire,  as  it  would  not  be  becoming  in  me  to  speak  of 
it  in  the  presence  of  Pani  Volodiyovski." 

The  celebrated  archer  at  once  saw  that  Zagloba  was  making 
fun  of  him,  and  as  he  did  not  feel  equal  to  defeating  him  in  a 
war  of  wit  he  made  no  further  inquiries  and  turned  the  con- 
versation. 

"What  you  say  is  true,"  he  said,  "when  a  man  is  far  away 
and  hears  people  say,  'Kamenets  is  not  provisioned,  Kamenets 
will  fall/  he  is  seized  with  dread;  but  when  he  sees  Kamenets, 
by  God,  he  is  reassured." 

"Besides,  Michael  will  be  in  Kamenets,"  cried  Basia. 

"And  perhaps  Pan  Sobieski  will  send  assistance." 

"Praise  be  to  God!  we  are  not  so  badly  off  after  all.  Things 
have  been  worse,  and  we  did  not  yield." 

"Even  if  it  were  worse,  the  point  is  not  to  lose  courage. 
They  have  not  devoured  us  yet,  and  they  won't  as  long  as 
we  keep  our  spirits  up,"  said  Zagloba. 

Cheered  by  these  thoughts  they  became  silent.  But  sud- 
denly Pan  Adam  rode  up  beside  Basia;  his  face,  which  was 
usually  dark  and  terrible  was  now  smiling  and  tranquil.  His 
eyea  were  fastened  in  a  rapt  gaze  on  Kamenets  which  was 
bathed  in  sunlight;  and  he  was  smiling. 

The  two  knights  and  Basia  looked  at  him  in  astonishment, 
not  being  able  to  comprehend  why  the  sight  of  that  strong- 
hold should  so  suddenly  have  removed  all  weight  from  his 
spirit. 


436  PAN   MICHAEL. 

But  he  exclaimed: 

"Praised  be  the  name  of  the  Lord!  there  was  a  world  of 
suffering,  but  now  happiness  is  near  me." 

Then  he  turned  to  Basia. 

"They  are  both  with  the  bailiff,  Tomashevich,  and  it  is 
well  that  they  have  concealed  themselves  there,  for  in  a  fort- 
ress like  that  that  robber  cannot  harm  them/' 

"Whom  are  you  talking  about?"  asked  Basia  in  terror. 

"Zosia  and  Evka." 

"God  help  you!"  cried  Zagloba;  "do  not  give  way  to  the 
Devil." 

But  Pan  Adam  continued: 

"Neither  is  it  true,  as  they  say,  that  Azya  killed  my  father." 

"His  mind  is  wandering,"  whispered  Pan  Mushalski. 

"Allow  me,"  said  Novovyeyski  again,  "I  will  hasten  on  in 
advance.  It  is  so  long  since  I  saw  them  that  I  am  pining 
for  them." 

"Ah!  There  seems  to  be  the  booth  of  my  beloved." 

With  that  his  great  head  began  to  sway  from  side  to  side 
and  he  spurred  on. 

Pan  Mushalski  beckoned  to  some  dragoons  and  followed, 
to  keep  an  eye  on  the  madman.  Basia  hid  her  rosy  face  in  her 
hands  and  scalding  tears  began  to  trickle  through  her  fingers. 

"He  was  such  a  fine  fellow,  like  gold,  but  such  misfortunes 
are  more  that  a  human  heart  can  bear.  .  .  .  Besides  mere 
vengeance  will  not  restore  the  spirits."  .  .  . 

Kamenets  was  busy  with  defensive  preparations.  On  the 
Avails,  in  the  old  castle,  and  at  the  gates,  especially  the  Bus- 
si  an  gates,  the  various  nationalities  in  the  town  worked  under 
their  own  bailiffs,  among  whom  Tomashevich  held  the  first 
place  on  account  of  his  great  daring  and  skill  in  handling 
cannon.  At  the  same  time  Poles,  Russians,  Armenians,  Jews, 
and  Gypsies  emulated  each  other  with  the  spade  and  wheel- 
>  <  arrow.  Officers  of  various  regiments  supervised  the  work; 
sergeants  and  soldiers  assisted  the  citizens,  and  even  nobles 
set  to  work,  forgetting  for  once  that  God  had  created  their 
hands  for  the  sabre  alone  and  allotted  all  other  work  to  men 
of  lowly  rank.  Voytsiekh  Humyetski,  the  banneret  of  Podo- 
lia,  himself  set  an  example  that  brought  tears  into  people's 
eyes,  for  with  his  own  hands  he  brought  stones  in  a  barrow. 
There  was  great  bustle  in  the  town  and  castle.  The  Domin- 
icans, Jesuits,  Brothers  of  St.  Francis,  and  Carmelites  went 
about  among  the  throngs  blessing  the  effort  of  the  people. 


PAN    MIC  HAUL.  437 

Women  carried  food  and  drink  to  the  laborers  and  the  sol- 
diers' eyes  were  attracted  by  beautiful  Armenian  women,  the 
wives  and  daughters  of  rich  merchants,  and  yet  more  lovely 
Jewesses  from  Karvasera,  Javnets,  Zinkoviets  and  Dunaygrod. 

But  Basia's  entrance  attracted  the  attention  of  the  crowds 
more  than  anything  else.  There  were  undoubtedly  more  dis- 
tinguished women  in  Kamenets,  but  none  whose  husband  had 
a  greater  military  reputation.  In  Kamenets  they  had  also 
heard  of  Pani  Volodiyovski  herself  as  a  marshal  lady  who  was 
not  afraid  to  dwell  on  a  watch-tower  in  the  wilderness  among 
wild  people,  and  who  accompanied  her  husband  on  expedi- 
tions, and,  when  abducted  by  a  Tartar,  had  managed  to  over- 
come him  and  make  her  escape  in  safety  from  the  hands  of 
the  ravisher.  So  she  was  extremely  famous.  But  those  who 
did  not  know  her  and  had  not  seen  her  yet  supposed  her 
to  be  some  giantess  who  could  break  horse-shoes  and  crush 
armor.  Therefore  what  was  their  surprise  to  see  a  little,  rosy, 
childish  face!  "Is  that  Pani  Volodiyovski  herself,  or  her 
little  daughter?"  people  in  the  throng  asked.  "Herself/'  an- 
swered those  who  knew  her.  And  citizens,  women,  priests, 
and  soldiers  were  all  overcome  with  admiration.  They  gazed 
no  less  wonderingly  at  the  invincible  garrison  of  Khreptyov 
and  at  the  dragoons,  among  whom  Pan  Adam  was  riding 
calmly  with  wandering  glances,  and  at  the  terrible  faces  of 
the  marauders  who  were  transformed  into  Hungarian  in- 
fantry. But  at  Basia's  side  marched  a  few  hundred  men  who 
were  worthy  of  all  praise,  being  soldiers  by  profession,  and  so 
the  townspeople  gained  fresh  courage.  "That  is  no  ordinary 
force;  they  will  look  the  Turks  boldly  in  the  face/'  cried  the 
people  in  the  throng.  Some  of  the  citizens,  and  even  of  the 
soldiers,  particularly  those  of  the  regiment  of  Bishop  Tjebit- 
ski,  that  had  recently  arrived  at  Kamenets,  thought  that  Pan 
Michael  himself  was  with  the  party  and  cried: 

"Long  live  Pan  Volodiyovski!" 

"Long  live  our  defender!   The  most  famous  cavalier!" 

"Vivat  Volodiyovski!  vivat!" 

Basia's  heart  swelled  as  she  listened,  for  nothing  is  dearer 
to  a  woman  than  her  husband's  fame,  especially  when  it 
sounds  on  the  lips  of  people  in  a  great  city.  "There  are  so 
many  knights  here,"  Basia  thought,  "and  my  dear  Michael  is 
the  only  one  they  acclaim."  And  she  wanted  to  join  in  the 
chorus  "Vivat  Volodiyovski!"  herself,  but  Zagloba  told  her 
that  she  must  comfort  herself  as  a  person  of  distinction  and 


MICHAEL. 

bow  from  side  to  side  as  queens  do  when  entering  a  capital. 
He  also  saluted,  sometimes  with  his  cap  and  sometimes  with 
liis  hand,  and  when  acquaintances  began  to  honor  him  with 
vivats  he  addressed  the  crowd: 

"Gracious  gentlemen,  he  who  endured  Zbaraj  will  hold  out 
in  Kamenets." 

In  accordance  with  Volodiyovski's  instructions  the  party 
went  to  the  newly-built  cloister  of  the  Dominican  nuns.  The 
little  knight  had  his  own  house  in  Kamenets;  but,  as  the 
cloister  was  in  a  remote  spot,  out  of  the  reach  of  cannon-balls, 
he  preferred  to  settle  his  beloved  Basia  there,  more  especially 
as  he  anticipated  a  hearty  welcome  on  account  of  his  benefac- 
tions to  the  cloister.  Indeed  the  abyge,  Mother  Victoria,  the 
daughter  of  Stephen  Pototski,  Voyevoda  of  Bratslav,  received 
Basia  with  .open  arms.  The  embraces  of  the  abbess  were  fol- 
lowed by  other  greatly-loved  ones; — those  of  her  aunt,  Pani 
Makovyetska,  whom  she  had  not  seen,  for  some  years.  They 
both  shed  tears  and  so  did  her  uncle,  the  Stolnik  of  Latychov, 
with  whom  Basia  had  always  been  a  favorite.  They  had 
scarcely  dried  their  joyful  tears  when  Krysia  Ketling  rushed 
in  and  fresh  greetings  commenced;  then  Basia  was  surrounded 
by  the  nuns  and  noble  strangers  and  acquaintances; — Pani 
Martsinova  Bogush,  Pani  Stanislavska,  Pani  Kalinovska,  Pani 
Khotsimirski,  Pani  Voytsyekhova  Humyetska,  the  wife  of  the 
banneret  of  Podolia,  a  great  cavalier.  Some,  like  Pani  Bogush, 
asked  after  their  husbands,  while  others  asked  what  Basia 
thought  about  the  Turkish  invasion  and  whether,  in  her  opin- 
ion, Kamenets  would  hold  out.  Basia  was  delighted  to  see 
that  they  regarded  her  as  an  authority  on  military  matters, 
and  looked  for  comfort  from  her  lips.  So  she  did  not  stint 
her  gifts.  "Nobody  says,"  she  said,  "that  we  cannot  hold 
out  against  the  Turks.  Michael  will  be  here  to-day,  or  to- 
morrow, or  in  a  couple  of  days  at  the  furthest;  and  when  he 
takes  the  defence  in  hand,  you,  ladies,  may  sleep  in  peace. 
Besides  the  fortress  is  exceedingly  strong;  thank  God,  I  have 
some  little  knowledge  in  such  affairs." 

Basia7  s  confidence  comforted  the  hearts  of  the  women;  in 
particular  they  were  reassured  by  the  promise  of  Pan  Michael's 
arrival.  Indeed,  his  name  was  held  in  such  honor  that,  al- 
though it  was  evening,  the  officers  of  the  place  immediately 
began  to  come  and  pay  their  respects  to  Basia*  After  the  first 
greetings,  everyone  asked  when  the  little  knight  would  re- 
turn, and  whether  he  really  meant  to  shut  himself  up  ii* 


PAN    MICHAEL.  439 

Kamenets.  Basia  only  received  Major  Kvasibrotski,  who 
commanded  the  infantry  of  the  Bishop  of  Cracow;  the  secre- 
tary, Jevuski,  who  had  succeeded  Pan  Lanchyski,  or  rather 
was  acting  as  locum  tenens  in  command  of  the  regiment;  and 
Ketling.  No  others  were  admitted  that  day,  as  Basia  was 
tired  after  the  journey,  and  moreover  she  had  to  see  after 
Pan  Novovyeyski.  That  unfortunate  man  had  fallen  from 
his  horse  at  the  very  gate  of  the  convent  and  had  been  carried 
unconscious  to  a  cell.  They  immediately  sent  for  the  same 
doctor  who  had  cured  Basia  at  Khreptyov.  The  doctor  said 
that  Pan  Adam  had  a  serious  brain  disease  and  gave  little 
jiope  of  his  recovery.  Basia,  Pan  Mushalski,  and  Zagloba  sat 
up  late,  talking  about  the  affair  and  dwelling  on  the  knight's 
unhappy  lot. 

"The  doctor  told  me,"  said  Zagloba,  "that  if  he  recovers 
consciousness,  and  is  bled  freely,  his  mind  will  not  be  de- 
ranged and  he  will  bear  his  misfortune  with  a  lighter  heart." 

"There  is  no  consolation  for  him  now,"  said  Basia. 

"It  would  often  be  better  for  a  man  to  have  no  memory," 
said  Pan  Mushalski;  "but  even  alimals  are  not  without  it." 

The  little,  old  man  demurred  to  this  remark  of  the  famous 
archer's. 

"If  you  had  no  memory  you  couldn't  go  to  confession," 
said  the  latter;  "and  you  would  deserve  hell-fire  like  a  Lu- 
theran. Father  Kaminski  has  already  cautioned  you  against 
blasphemy;  but  repeat  the  Paternoster  to  a  wolf  and  he  would 
rather  be  devouring  a  goat." 

"What  kind  of  a  wolf  am  I?"  asked  the  famous  archer. 
"There  was  Azya;  he  was  a  wolf." 

"Didn't  I  say  so?"  asked  Zagloba.  "Who  was  the  first  to 
say,  'there's  a  wolf  ?"J 

"Pan  Adam  told  me,"  said  Basia,  "that  day  and  night  he 
hears  Evka  and  Zosia  calling  to  him  'rescue,'  and  how  can 
he  rescue?  It  had  to  end  in  an  illness,  for  nobody  could  endure 
such  suffering.  He  could  survive  their  death;  but  not  their 
shame." 

"Now  he  is  lying  like  a  log  of  wood;  he  knows  nothing  of 
God's  world,"  said  Pan  Mushalski;  "and  it's  a  great  pity,  for 
he  was  unsurpassed  as  a  fighter." 

At  this  point  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  ser- 
vant who  announced  there  was  a  great  noise  in  the  town, 
where,  people  were  gathering  to  see  the  General  of  Podolia, 
who  was  just  entering  with  a  large  escort  and  several  tens  of 
infantry. 


PAN    MICHAEL. 

"The  command  belongs  to  him/7  said  Zagloba,  "It  is  brave 
of  Pan  Nikolai  Pototski  to  prefer  this  to  any  other  place,  but, 
as  of  old,  J  would  rather  he  were  not  here.  He  is  opposed  to 
the  Hetman;  he  did  not  believe  the  war  was  coming;  and  now 
who  knows  whether  he  will  not  want  to  surrender." 

"Perhaps  other  Pototskis  will  come  in  after  him/'  said  Pan 
Mushalski. 

"It  is  evident  that  the  Turks  are  not  far  away,"  answered 
Zagloba.  "In  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
God  grant  that  the  General  of  Podolia  may  prove  a  second 
Yeremy;  and  Kamenets  a  second  Zbaraj!" 

"It  must  be;  or  we  shall  first  die/'  cried  a  voice  on  the 
threshold. 

At  the  sound  of  that  voice  Basia  sprang  up  and,  crying 
"Michael,"  cast  herself  into  the  little  knight's  arms. 

Pan  Michael  brought  much  important  news  from  the  field 
and  told  it  to  his  wife  in  the  quiet  cell  before  communicating 
it  to  the  military  council.  He  had  utterly  destroyed  a  number 
of  small  chambuls  and  had  dashed  around  the  camps  of  the 
Crimea  and  Doroshenko  with  great  glory  to  himself.  He  had 
also  brought  a  few  dozen  prisoners,  from  whom  they  might 
gain  intelligence  as  to  the  force  of  the  Khan  and  Doroshenko. 

But  other  raiders  had  not  been  so  successful.  The  Chief 
of  Podlasia,  commanding  considerable  forces,  had  been 
crushed  in  a  sanguinary  battle;  Motovidlo  had  been  defeated 
by  Krychinski,  who  had  pursued  him  to  the  Wallachian  trail 
with  the  assistance  of  the  Byalogrod  horde  and  the  Lipkovs 
who  had  survived  Pan  Adam's  victory  at  Tekich.  Before 
coming  to  Kamenets,  Pan  Michael  had  turned  aside  to 
Khreptyov,  as  he  said  he  had  wanted  to  gaze  again  on  the 
scene  of  his  happiness. 

"I  arrived  there  immediately  after  your  departure,"  he 
said,  "the  place  had  not  yet  grown  cold  and  I  might  easily 
have  overtaken  you,  but  I  crossed  over  to  the  Moldavian  bank 
to  listen  in  the  direction  of  the  steppes.  Some  chambuls  have 
already  crossed,  but  they  fear  that  if  they  come  out  at  Pokuts 
they  may  unexpectedly  come  across  people.  There  are  others 
in  advance  of  the  Turkish  army  and  they  will  soon  be  here. 
There  will  be  a  siege,  my  most  beloved  dove,  there  is  no  help 
for  it;  but  we  will  not  surrender,  for  everyone  here  is  not  only 
defending  the  country,  'but  his  private  property  as  well." 

Then  he  twirled  his  moustache  and  put  his  arms  round  his 
wife  and  kissed  her  cheeks  and  they  conversed  no  more  that 
day. 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


441 


The  next  morning  Pan  Michael  repeated  his  tidings  at 
Bishop  Lantskoronski's,  before  the  council  of  war,  which  in 
addition  to  the  Bishop,  included  Pan  Nikolai  Pototski,  Gen- 
eral of  Podolia;  Pan  Lantskoronski,  Chamberlain  of  Podolia; 
Pan  Jevuski,  Secretary  of  Podolia;  Pan  Humyetski,  the  Stand- 
ard Bearer;  Ketling,  Makovyetska,  Major  Kvasibrotski,  and 
several  other  officers.  In  the  first  place  Volodiyovski  was  not 
pleased  with  the  General  of  Podolia's  declaration  that  he 
would  not  assume  the  command  himself,  but  depute  it  to  a 
council.  "In  sudden  emergencies  there  ought  to  be  one  head 
and  one  will,"  said  the  little  knight.  "At  Zbaraj  there  were 
three  men  who  were  entitled  to  the  command,  but  they  re- 
signed it  to  Prince  Yeremy  Vishnyovyetski,  properly  con- 
sidering that  it  is  better  to  obey  one  in  times  of  peril." 

These  words  had  no  effect.  The  learned  Ketling  vainly 
quoted  the  example  of  the  Romans,  who,  being  the  greatest 
warriors  in  the  world,  instituted  the  dictatorship.  Bishop 
Lantskoronski,  who  did  not  like  Ketling, — for  he  had  taken 
it  into  his  head  for  some  reason  or  other  that,  as  Ketling 
was  of  Scottish  birth,  he  must  be  a  heretic  in  his  secret  heart, 
—retorted  that  the  Poles  did  not  need  to  learn  history  from 
new  arrivals;  moreover,  they  had  minds  of  their  own  and  had 
no  need  to  follow  the  example  of  Romans,  who  were  not 
their  superiors  in  bravery  and  eloquence,  or  very  little,  even 
if  at  all.  The  bishop  added,  "As  there  is  more  blaze  from 
an  armful  of  wood  than  from  one  stick,  so  there  is  more  vigi- 
lance in  many  heads  than  in  one."  Thereupon  he  extolled  the 
General  of  Podolia's  modesty,  though  the  others  knew  it  was 
rather  dread  of  responsibility,  and  for  his  own  part  he  coun- 
selled negotiations.  As  he  uttered  this  word  the  soldiers 
sprang  from  their  seats  as  if  scorched.  Pan  Michael,  Ketling, 
Makovyetska,  Humyetski,  Jevuski  and  Kvasibrotski  began  to 
grind  their  teeth  and  clatter  their  sabres.  Voices  exclaimed, 
"I  believe  that  we  did  not  come  here  to  negotiate!"  "The 
negotiator  is  protected  by  his  frock!"  and  Kvasibrotski  even 
cried:  "the  church  porch,  not  this  council,  is  your  place!" 
and  there  was  a  tumult. 

At  that  the  bishop  arose  and  said  in  a  loud  voice:  "I  should 
be  the  first  to  give  my  life  for  the  church  and  my  little  lambs; 
but  if  I  have  spoken  of  negotiations  and  the  desire  to  tem- 
porize, God  is  my  judge  that  it  is  not  because  I  want  to  give 
up  the  fortress,  but  to  gain  time  for  the  Hetman  to  gather 
veinforcements.  The  name  of  Pan  Sobieski  is  dreaded  by 


442  MICHAEL. 

the  Infidels,  and  even  though  he  has  not  enough  forces  yet, 
if  the  rumor  spreads  that  he  is  advancing,  the  Mussulmans 
will  leave  Kamenets  quickly  enough."  And  as  he  spoke  so 
forcibly  all  were  silent  and  some  were  glad  to  see  that  the 
bishop  really  had  no  thought  of  surrender. 

On  this,  Volodiyovski  said: 

"Before  the  enemy  can  besiege  Kamenets  he  must  destroy 
Jvanets,  because  he  cannot  leave  a  strong  place  of  defence  in 
his  rear.  Therefore  with  the  General's  permission  I  will  un- 
dertake to  shut  myself  up  in  Jvanets  and  hold  it  while  the 
bishop  tries  to  gain  time  with  negotiations.  I  will  take  trusty 
men  with  me;  and  Jvanets  will  stand  as  lor  g  as  my  life  lasts." 

At  that  they  all  cried : 

"By  no  means  can  that  be,  you  are  wanted  here!  The  citi- 
zens will  lose  heart  without  you,  and  the  soldiers  will  not  be 
so  willing  to  fight.  By  no  means!  by  no  manner  of  means! 
Who  has  had  more  experience?  Who  went  through  Zbaraj? 
And  when  it  comes  to  a  sortie  who  will  lead  the  men?  You 
would  be  consumed  in  Jvanets,  and  without  you  here,  we 
should  be  consumed." 

"I  am  at  the  disposal  of  the  command,"  answered  Pan 
Michael. 

"Send  some  young  man  to  be  my  assistant  at  Jvanets,"  said 
the  under-Chamberlain  of  Podolia. 

"Let  Novovyeyski  go,"  cried  several  voices. 

"Novovyeyski  cannot  go,  for  his  head  is  burning,"  answered 
Pan  Michael;  "he  is  lying  on  his  bed,  and  knows  nothing  of 
God's  world/' 

"Meanwhile  let  us  decide  where  each  man's  place  is  to  be 
and  what  gate  he  is  to  defend,"  said  the  bishop. 

All  eyes  were  turned  on  the  General  of  Podolia,  who  said: 

"Before  I  give  orders  I  should  be  glad  to  have  the  opinions 
of  experienced  soldiers;  since  Pan  Volodiyovski  here  has  the 
greatest  military  experience,  I  call  on  him  first  for  his 
opinion." 

In  the  first  place  Volodiyovski  advised  that  the  castles  in 
front  of  the  town  should  be  well  garrisoned,  for  he  thought 
that  the  main  force  of  the  enemy  would  be  directed  to  them 
especially.  Others  were  of  the  same  opinion.  There  were 
sixteen  hundred  infantry,  so  disposed  that  Pan  Myslishevski 
occupied  the  right  side  of  the  castle  and  the  left  was  held  by 
Pan  Humyetski,  celebrated  for  his  exploits  at  Khotsim.  Pan 
Michael  took  the  mast  perilous  post  on  the  side  towards  Khot- 


PAN   MICHAEL.  443 

sim,  and  Serdyuk's  division  was  posted  lower  down.  Major 
Kvasibrotski  covered  the  side  towards  Zinkoviets;  the  south 
was  occupied  by  Pan  Vansovich,  and  the  side  next  the  court 
by  Captain  Bukar  with  Pan  Krasinski's  men.  The  latter  were 
not  volunteers  of  indifferent  quality,  but  soldiers  by  profes- 
sion, so  excellent  and  steady  in  battle,  that  to  them  artillery 
fire  was  no  more  than  the  heat  of  the  sun  to  other  men. 
Moreover,  serving  in  the  armies  of  the  Commonwealth,  which 
were  always  small  in  numbers,  from  their  earliest  year  they 
had  been  accustomed  to  oppose  a  foe  of  ten  times  their 
strength  and  looked  upon  it  as  quite  a  natural  thing.  Ket- 
ling,  who  was  most  expert  in  the  art  of  aiming  cannon,  was 
given  the  general  management  of  the  castle  artillery.  The 
little  knight  was  to  have  chief  command  in  the  castle,  and  the 
General  left  him  at  liberty  to  make  a  sortie  as  often  as  it  was 
necessary  and  possible. 

Knowing  now  the  position  of  each  man,  they  heartily  re- 
joiced and  raised  a  great  shout,  at  the  same  time  clattering 
their  swords,  which  was  their  way  of  showing  their  willing- 
ness. When  he  heard  this  the  General  said  to  himself: 

"I  had  no  belief  that  we  could  defend  ourselves  and  I  came 
here  without  any  faith,  only  listening  to  the  voice  of  my  own 
conscience;  but  who  knows?  we  may  repulse  the  foe  with  such 
soldiers!  In  that  case  the  glory  will  be  mine  and  they  will 
hail  me  as  a  second  Yeremy;  and  in  that  event  it  may  be 
that  a  fortunate  star  has  brought  me  here." 

And  as  he  had  before  been  doubtful  of  the  defence  of 
Kamenets,  so  now  he  doubted  its  capture;  so  his  courage  grew 
and  he  more  actively  began  to  take  measures  for  the  strength- 
ening of  the  city. 

It  was  decided  to  post  Pan  Makovyetska  at  the  Russian 
gate  in  the  city,  itself  with  a  handful  of  nobles  and  Polish 
citizens  who  were  more  than  usually  martial,  and  a  few  dozen 
Armenians  and  Jews  with  them.  The  Lutsk  gate  was  con- 
fided to  Pan  Grodetski,  who  was  joined  by  Pan  Juk  and  Pan 
Matchynski  in  command  of  the  artillery.  The  guard  of  the 
square  in  front  of  the  town-hall  was  commanded  by  Lukash 
Dzevanovski,  and  the  noisy  Gypsies  at  the  Russian  gate  were 
commanded  by  Khotsimirski.  From  the  bridge  to  Pan  Sinit- 
ski's  house  the  guards  were  commanded  by  Pan  Casimir 
Humyetski,  the  manly  brother  of  Voytsyekh.  Further  on 
were  to  be  quartered  Pan  Stanishevski;  and  Pan  Martsin 
Bogush  at  the  Polish  gate;  and  Pan  Yerzy  Skarjinski  at  tha 


444  PAN   MICHAEL. 

Spij  Bastion,  and  Pan  Yatskovski  beside  the  Byaloblotski  em- 
brasures; and  the  Butcher  Bastion  was  held  by  Pan  Dubravski 
and  Pan  Pyetrashevski.  The  great  intrenchment  of  the  town 
was  entrusted  to  Tomashevich,  the  Polish  bailiff,  and  the 
smaller  one  to  Pan  Yatskovski;  orders  were  given  to  con- 
struct a  third  one,  from  which,  later,  a  certain  Jew,  a  skilful 
gunner,  greatly  annoyed  the  Turks. 

When  these  arrangements  were  completed  the  whole  council 
went  to  sup  with  the  General,  who,  at  that  entertainment, 
particularly  honored  Pan  Michael  with  place,  food,  wine,  and 
conversation,  foreseeing  that  for  his  deeds  during  the  siege 
posterity  would  add  the  title  of  the  "Hector  of  Kamenets"  to 
that  of  the  "Little  Knight."  The  latter  declared  that  he 
meant  to  serve  with  the  utmost  earnestness,  and  to  that  end 
he  intended  to  take  a  certain  vow  in  the  cathedral,  and  prayed 
the  bishop  therefore  to  allow  him  to  do  so  on  the  morrow. 
The  bishop  readily  acquiesced  as  he  saw  that  this  vow  might 
be  to  the  popular  advantage.  The  next  morning  there  was  a 
solemn  service  in  the  cathedral.  It  was  heard  with  devotion 
and  elevation  of  heart  by  knights,  nobles,  soldiers,  and  the 
populace.  Pan  Michael  and  Ketling  both  lay  prostrate  in  the 
form  of  a  cross  before  the  altar;  Krysia  and  Basia  were  both 
kneeling  close  by,  outside  the  railing,  weeping,  for  they  knew 
that  that  vow  might  imperil  the  lives  of  their  husbands.  At 
the  end  of  the  Mass  the  bishop  turned  to  the  people  with  the 
monstrance;  then  the  little  knight  rose  and,  kneeling  on  the 
steps  of  the  altar,  in  calm  tones,  though  with  emotion,  said: 

"Being  deeply  grateful  for  the  special  benefactions  and 
particular  protection  that  I  have  received  from  the  Most  High 
God  and  from  His  Only  Son,  I  vow  and  make  oath  that,  as 
He  and  His  Son  have  aided  me,  so  to  my  last  breath  I  will 
defend  the  Holy  Cross,  and  since  I  am  entrusted  with  the 
command  of  the  old  castle,  while  I  have  life  and  can  move 
I  hand  and  foot,  I  will  not  admit  to  the  castle  the  Infidel  foe, 
who  live  in  vileness;  nor  will  I  leave  the  wall,  nor  raise  the 
white  flag,  even  if  I  have  to  be  buried  there  under  the 
ruins.  ...  So  help  me  God  and  the  Holy  Cross!  Amen!" 

A  solemn  silence  prevailed  in  the  church  and  then  Ket- 
ling's  voice  was  heard. 

"I  vow,"  he  said,  "for  the  special  benefactions  that  I  have 
received  in  the  fatherland,  to  defend  the  castle  to  the  last 
drop  of  my  blood  and  to  bury  myself  under  its  ruins  rather 
than  allow  the  foot  of  an  enemy  to  enter  its  walls.  And,  as 


FAN    MICHAEL.  445 

I  take  this  oath  with  a  clean  heart  and  out  of  pure  gratitude, 
so  help  me  God  and  the  Holy  Cross!  Amen!" 

Here  the  bishop  lowered  the  monstrance  and  gave  it  first 
to  Volodiyovski  and  then  to  Ketling  to  kiss.  At  this  sight 
a  loud  murmur  arose  from  the  numerous  knights  in  the 
church.  Voices  were  heard:  "We  will  all  swear!  We  will  lie 
upon  one  another!  The  fortress  shall  not  fall!  We  will  swear! 
we  will  swear!  Amen,  amen,  amen!"  The  rasping  of  the 
sabres  and  rapiers  was  heard  as  thsy  left  the  scabbards  and 
the  church  became  bright  with  the  steel.  The  gleam  shone  on 
threatening  faces  and  glittering  eyes  and  the  nobles,  soldiers, 
and  populace  were  seized  with  intense  and  indescribable  en- 
thusiasm. Then  all  the  bells  rang,  the  organ  rumbled,  the 
bishop  intoned  the  'Sub  Tuum  praesidium/  and  a  hundred 
voices  sounded  in  answer;  and  thus  they  prayed  for  that  for- 
tress that  was  the  watch-tower  of  Christendom  and  the  key 
of  the  Commonwealth. 

At  the  end  of  the  service  Ketling  and  Pan  Michael  left  the 
church  hand  in  hand.  Blessings  and  praise  accompanied 
their  steps,  for  nobody  doubted  that  they  would  die  sooner 
than  surrender  the  castle.  However,  not  death,  but  victory 
and  glory  seemed  to  be  hovering  over  them,  and  probably 
among  all  those  people  they  alone  knew  how  terrible  was  the 
oath  by  which  they  had  bound  themselves.  Perhaps  also,  two 
loving  hearts  had  a  presentiment  of  the  destruction  that  was 
hanging  over  their  heads,  for  neither  Basia  nor  Krysia  could 
recover  their  composure;  and  when  Pan  Michael  found  him- 
self at  last  in  the  convent  with  his  wife,  choked  with  tears  and 
sobbing  like  a  little  child  she  nestled  up  to  his  breast  and 
cried  in  broken  accents: 

"Remember  .  .  .  Michael,  that  .  .  .  God  ward  off  mis- 
fortune from  you.  ...  I  ...  I  ...  know  not  .  .  ,  what 
.  .  .  will  .  .  .  become  of  me!" 

And  she  quivered  with  emotion;  the  little  knight  was  also 
greatly  moved.  His  little  yellow  moustache  quivered.  Pres- 
ently he  said: 

"But  Bashka  ...  it  was  necessary,  well!  well!"  .  .  . 

"I  would  rather  die!"  cried  Basia. 

At  her  words  the  little  knight's  lips  quivered  more  violently 
and  he  said  again  and  again: 

"Quiet,  Bashka,  quiet!"  At  length,  to  calm  the  woman  he 
loved  more  than  all  women  on  earth,  he  said: 

"Do  you  remember  that  when  the  Lord  God  restored  you  to 


446  PAX    MICHAEL. 

me  I  said,  'Whatever  return,  0  Lord  God,  is  right,  I  promise 
Thee.  .  After  the  war  if  I  am  alive,  I  will  build  a  chapel,  but 
during  the  war  I  must  do  something  remarkable  so  as  not  feed 
Thee  with  ingratitude?'  What  is  a  castle?  It  is  little  for 
such  benefits.  The  time  has  come.  Is  it  right  that  the 
Saviour  should  say  to  Himself,  'His  promise  is  a  plaything?' 
May  the  stones  of  the  castle  overwhelm  me  before  I  break  the 
knightly  word  that  I  gave  to  God.  It  is  necessary,  Bashka, 
and  that's  the  whole  thing!  .  .  .  Let  us  trust  in  the  Lord, 
Bashka!"  . 


CHAPTER  XV. 

The  same  day  Pan  Michael  took  some  squadrons  to  tho 
assistance  of  Pan  Vasilkovski  who  had  gone  in  haste  to  Hryn- 
chuk,  for  news  arrived  that  the  Tartars  had  made  an  attack 
there,  taking  captives  and  cattle,  but  not  burning  villages, 
so  as  not  to  attract  notice.  Pan  Vasilkovski  soon  dispersed 
them,  rescuing  the  captives  and"  taking  prisoners.  Volodiy- 
ovski  took  these  prisoners  to  Jvanets  and  instructed  Pan 
Makovyetska  to  torture  them  and  take  down  their  confessions 
in  writing,  to  be  forwarded  to  the  Hetman  and  the  King. 
The  Tartars  confessed  that  at  the  order  of  the  perkulab  they 
had  crossed  the  border  with  Captain  Styngan  and  with  Wal- 
lachians;  but  even  under  the^  flames  they  could  not  tell  how 
far  away  at  that  time  the  Sultan  was  with  his  whole  force, 
for,  as  they  moved  forward  in  irregular  bodies,  they  did  not 
keep  in  touch  with  the  main  army. 

However,  they  all  agreed  that  the  Sultan  was  advancing 
in  force  to  the  Commonwealth  and  would  soon  be  at  Khot- 
sim.  These  confessions  contained  nothing  new  for  the  fu- 
ture defenders  of  Kamenets;  but  since  in  the  king's  palace 
it  was  not  believed  that  war  was  coming,  the  Under-Cham- 
berlain  determined  to  send  these  prisoners,  together  with 
their  statements,  to  Warsaw. 

Meanwhile  the  scouting  parties  had  returned  from  their 
first  expedition  in  good  spirits.  In  the  evening  the  secretary 
of  Habareskul,  Pan  Michael's  relative,  the  senior  perkulab 
of  Khotsim,  arrived.  He  brought  no  letters,  as  the  perkulab 
was  afraid  to  write;  but  his  orders  were  to  tell  his  relative 
Volodiyovski,  'the  pupil  of  his  eye  and  the  love  of  his  heart/ 
to  be  on  his  guard,  and  if  there  were  not  sufficient  troops 
to  defend  Kamenets,  to  find  some  excuse  for  leaving  the 
town,  for  the  Sultan  with  his  whole  force  had  been  expected 
for  two  days  at  Khotsim. 

Pan  Michael  sent  his  thanks  to  the  perkulab  and  rewarded 
the  secretary  and  sent  him  back;  he  then  informed  the  com- 
mandants of  the  approaching  danger.  Work  on  the  forti- 

(447) 


448  PAN    MICHAEL. 

fications  was  pushed  hourly  with  increased  energy;  Tan 
Hieronim  Lantskoronski,  without  a  moment's  delay,  went 
to  his  Jvanets  to  keep  an  eye  on  Khotsim. 

Some  time  passed  in  waiting;  at  length,  on  the  second 
day  of  August,  the  Sultan  halted  at  Khotsim.  His  regiments 
extended  like  a  shoreless  sea;  aaid  at  the  sight  of  the  last 
town  in  the  Sultan's  dominions,  the  cry  "Allah!  Allah!"  rose 
from  hundreds  of  thousands  of  throats.  On  the  other  side 
of  the  Dniester  lay  the  defenceless  Commonwealth  which 
those  innumerable  hosts  were  to  overspread  like  a  deluge, 
or  devour  like  a  flame.  Crowds  of  warriors,  unable  to  find 
room  in  the  town,  spread  over  the  fields; — the  same  fields 
where  some  decades  earlier  Polish  sabres  had  dispersed  an 
equally  numerous  army  of  the  Prophet.  It  now  seemed  that 
the  hour  of  vengeance  had  arrived  and  not  one  in  all  those 
wild  legions,  from  the  Sultan  down  to  the  camp-follower 
had  any  presentiment  that  those  fields  would  a  second  time 
be  ill-omened  for  the  Crescent.  Hope  and  even  the  assurance 
of  victory  reigned  in  all  hearts.  Janissaries  and  pnpliis, 
crowds  of  levies  from  the  Balkans  and  the  mountains  of 
Rhodope,  from  Rumelia,  from  Pelion  and  Os«a,  from  Car- 
mel  and  Lebanon,  from  the  deserts  of  Arabia,  from  the 
farther  banks  of  the  Tigris,  from  the  lowlands  of  the  Nile 
and  the  burning  sands  of  Africa,  uttering  wild  shouts  de- 
manded to  be  led  at  once  to  the  "shore  of  the  unbelievers." 
But  the  muezzins  began  to  call  to  prayer  from  the  minarets 
of  Khotsim  and  therefore  all  became  silent.  A  sea  of  heads 
in  turbans,  caps,  fezes,  burnooses,  kef  is,  and  steel  helmets 
bowed  to  the  earth,  and  the  deep  murmur  of  prayer  passed 
over  the  fields  like  the  hum  of  an  innumerable  swarm  of 
bees,  and  was  carried  by  the  breeze  across  the  Dniester  to- 
wards the  Commonwealth. 

Then  were  heard  drums,  trumpets  and  pipes,  calling  to 
rest.  Though  the  hosts  had  marched  leisurely  and  comfort- 
ably the  Padishah  wanted  to  give  them  a  rest  at  the  river 
after  the  long  journey  from  Adrianople.  He  performed  his 
own  ablutions  in  a  clear  spring  near  the  town  and  rode 
thence  to  the  konak  of  Khotsim;  and  they  began  to  pitch 
tents  in  the  fields  that  soon  made  the  whole  surrounding 
country  look  as  if  covered  with  snow. 

It  was  a  lovely  day  with  a  beautiful  close.  After  the  last, 
evening  prayers  the  camp  went  to  rest.  Thousands  and  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  fires  were  blazing.  From  the  little  castle 


PAN    MICHAEL. 

in  Jvanets  opposite,  the  light  of  those  fires  filled  them  with 
dread,  for  they  extended  to  such  a  distance  that  the  sol- 
diers who  went  out  to  reconnoitre  brought  in  the  account, 
"It"  looked  as  if  the  whole  of  Moldavia  were  in  flames." 
But  as  the  bright  moon  mounted  higher  in  the  starry  skies 
they  -all  died  down  except  the  watch-fires;  the  camp  grew 
silent  and  the  quiet  of  the  night  was  only  disturbed  by  the 
neighing  of  horses  and  the  bellowing  of  the  buffaloes  feed- 
ing on  the  meadows  of  Taraiban. 

But  the  next  day  at  dawn  the  Sultan  ordered  the  janis- 
saries and  Tartars  and  Lipkovs  to  cross  the  Dniester  and 
occupy  Jvanets,  the  town  as  well  as  the  castle.  The  valiant 
Pan  Hieronim  I^antskoronski  did  not  await  them  behind 
the  walls,  but,  having  with  him  forty  Tartars,  eighty  men 
of  Kiev,  and  one  squadron  of  his  own,  he  charged  the  janis- 
saries at  the  ferry;  and  notwithstanding  a  rattling  volley 
from  their  muskets,  he  broke  that  splendid  infantry  so  that 
they  began  .to  retreat  to  the  river  in  disorder.  But  in  the 
meantime  the  chambul,  reinforced  by  the  Lipkovs,  who  had 
crossed  higher  up,  broke  into  the  town.  Smoke  and  crie* 
warned  the  brave  Under-Chamberlain  that  the  place  was 
in  the  possession  of  the  enemy.  He  therefore  gave  orders 
for  the  ferry  to  be  abandoned  for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the 
unfortunate  inhabitants.  The  janissaries  could  not  pursue, 
as  they  were  infantry,  and  he  dashed  to  the  rescue  at  full 
speed. 

Just  as  he  was  coming  up,  his  own  Tartars  suddenly 
threw  down  their  flag  and  went  over  to  the  enemy.  Then 
followed  a  moment  of  great  danger.  The  chambul,,  aided  by 
the  treacherous  Lipkovs,  thinking  the  treason  would  throw 
them  into  confusion,  fiercely  engaged  the  Under-Chamber- 
Iain  hand  to  hand.  Luckily  the  men  of  Kiev,  inspired  by 
their  leader's  example,  offered  stout  resistance.  The  squad- 
ron broke  the  enemy,  who  were  not  capable  of  withstanding 
regular  Polish  cavalry.  The  ground  before  the  bridge  v/;;< 
soon  covered  with  corpses,  especially  of  the  Lipkovs,  who  kept 
the  field  as  they  were  hardier  than  the  average  men  of  the 
horde.  Many  of  them  were  'afterwards  cut  down  in  the 
streets.  Lantskoronski,  seeing  the  janissaries  approaching 
from  the  river,  withdrew  behind  the  walls  and  sent  to  Kam- 
enets  for  aid. 

The  Padishah  had  not  intended  to  take  the  castle  of 
Jvanets  that  day,  rightly  thinking  that  he  could  crush  it 
29 


4.50  PAN   MICHAEL. 

in  an  instant  at  the  general  passage  of  the  hosts.  He  merely 
wanted  to  occupy  that  point,  and  thinking  the  force  he  sent 
to  be  quite  sufficient,  he  sent  no  more  either  of  the  janis- 
saries or  the  horde.  Those  who  had  crossed  the  river  again 
occupied  the  place  when  the  squadron  had  retired  within 
the  walls.  They  did  not  burn  the  town,  for  they  wanted 
it  as  a  future  shelter  for  their  own  and  other  detachments, 
but  went  to  work  in  it  with  sabres  and  daggers.  The  janis- 
saries seized  the  young  women  in  the  manner  of  soldiers  and 
cut  down  the  husbands  and  children  with  axes;  the  Tartars 
were  plundering. 

Then  from  the  castle-bastion  the  Poles  saw  cavalry  ap- 
proaching from  the  direction  of  Kamenets.  .  When  he  heard 
that,  Lantkoronski  went  out  to  the  bastion  with  some  com- 
panions and  a  field-glass  and  gazed  long  and  carefully  At 
last  he  said: 

"That  is  light  cavalry  from  the  Khreptyov  garrison,  the 
same  that  accompanied  Vasilkovski  to  Hrynchuk.  It  is  evi- 
dent that  they  have  been  sent  out  this  time." 

Then  he  began  to  scrutinize  them  again. 

"I  see  volunteers.     It  must  be  Humyetski." 

And  in  a  moment: 

"God  be  praised!  Volodiyovski  himself  is  there,  for  I 
see  dragoons.  Worthy  gentlemen,  let  us  again  dash  out  from 
behind  the  walls  and  with  God's  aid  we  will  drive  the  enemy 
not  only  out  of  the  town  but  across  the  river." 

Then  he  ran  down  breathlessly  to  draw  up  below,  his 
men  of  Kiev,  and  the  squadron.  Meanwhile  the  Tartars  in 
the  town  first  saw  the  approaching  troops  and  raising  shrill 
shouts  of  "Allah!"  began  to  form  in  a  shambul.  Drums  and 
whistles  were  heard  in  every  street.  The  janissaries  formed 
with  that  rapidity  in  which  they  were  equalled  by  few 
troops  in  the  world.  The  chambul  dashed  out  of  the  place 
like  a  whirlwind  and  fell  upon  the  light  cavalry.  The  cham- 
bul  itself,  without  counting  the  Lipkovs  who  had  been  badly 
mauled  by  Lantskoronski,  were  three  times  as  numerous  as 
the  garrison  of  Jvanets  and  the  approaching  reinforcements 
combined,  so  it  did  not  hesitate  to  attack  Pan  Vasilkovski; 
but  the  latter,  who  was  young  and  impetuous  and  dashed 
against  every  danger  ardently  and  blindly,  ordered  his  sol- 
diers to  go  at  full  gallop  and  flew  along  like  a  tornado,  pay- 
ing not  the  slightest  heed  to  the  number  of  the  enemy.  The 
Tartars,  who  had  no  taste  for  close  fighting,  were  dismayed 


PAN   MICHAEL.  45I 

at  such  daring.  Notwithstanding  the  shouts  of  the  murzas 
in  the  rear,  the  shrill  tones  of  the  pipes,  and  the  rolling  of 
the  drums  calling  to  "kensim" — that  is,  to  cut  off  the  heads 
of  unbelievers, — they  began  to  check  and  rein  in  their  horses. 
Their  heart  and  martial  spirit  was  evidently  growing  momen- 
tarily fainter.  At  last  at  about  a  bow-shot's  distance  from 
the  squadron  they  parted  to  either  side  and  discharged  a 
shower  of  arrows  at  the  charging  cavalry. 

Pan  Vasilkovski,  entirely  ignorant  of  the  presence  of  the 
janissaries  who  had  formed  beyond  the  houses  near  the  river, 
came  up  at  undiminished  speed  behind  the  Tartars,  or  rather 
one-half  of  the  cliambul.  IJe  arrived  at  close  quarters  and 
began  to  cut  down  those  whose  poor  mounts  did  not  enable 
them  to  flee  quickly  enough.  The  second  half  of  the  cham- 
bul turned  in  the  attempt  to  surround  him;  but  at  that 
moment  the  volunteers  came  up,  and  the  Under-Chamberlain 
with  his  men  of  Kiev.  The  Tartars,  pressed  on  so  many  sides, 
scattered  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  like  sand,  and  a  con- 
fused chase  began, — of  a  group  by  a  group  and  a  man  by  a 
man, — in  which  many  of  the  horde  were  killed,  especially  by 
the  hand  of  Pan  Vasilkovski,  who,  single-handed,  struck 
blindly  at  whole  crowds  as  a  hawk  swoops  on  sparrows  or 
bunting. 

P>ut  Pan  Volodiyovski,  a  cool  and  keen  warrior,  kept  his 
dragoons  well  in  hand.  Like  one  who  holds  trained,  eager 
hounds  in  strong  leashes,  not  letting  them  fly  at  a  coming 
beast,  but  only  when  he  sees  the  glowing  eyes  and  gleaming 
teeth  of  a  savage  old  boar,  so  did  the  little  knight  despise 
the  mean  horde  and  watch  to  see  whether  spahis,  janissaries, 
or  other  regular  soldiery  was  not  behind  them. 

Pan  Lantskoronski  rushed  up  to  him  with  his  men  of 
Kiev  and  cried: 

"My  benefactor,  the  janissaries  are  moving  towards  the 
river;  let  us  attack  them!" 

Volodiyovski  drew  his  sword,  and  commanded: 

"Forward!" 

Each  dragoon  tightened  his  rein  so  as  to  have  his  horse 
well  in  hand,  and  then  the  ranks  dressed  up  and  advanced 
as  regularly  as  when  on  parade.  They  first  went  at  a  trot  and 
then  at  a  gallop,  but  did  not  yet  let  their  horses  go  at  full 
speed.  Only  after  passing  the  houses  near  the  river  to  the 
oa?t.  of  the  castle  did  they  see  the  white  felt  caps  of  the  jan- 
izaries, and  knew  that  they  had  to  deal  not  with  volunteers, 
but  with  regulars. 


452  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"Charge!"  cried  Volodiyovski. 

The  horses  extended  themselves  till  their  bellies  almost 
touched  the  ground,  as  their  hoofs  scattered  lumps  of  hard 
earth  behind  them. 

The  janissaries,  not  knowing  what  force  was  coming  to 
the  aid  of  Jvanets,  were  in  fact  retreating  to  the  river.  One 
body  of  between  two  and  three  hundred  men  was  already 
at  the  bank,  and  its  first  ranks  were  stepping  into  scows, 
another  body  of  similar  size  was  moving  rapidly  though  in 
perfect  order.  When  they  caught  sight  of  the  approaching 
cavalry  they  halted  and  faced  the  enemy  in  an  instant.  Their 
muskets  were  lowered  in  a  line  and  thundred  a  salvo  as  if 
at  a  review.  Moreover  these  seasoned  warriors,  counting 
on  their  comrades  on  the  bank  supporting  them  with  their 
fire,  not  only  did  not  retreat  after  the  volley,  but  followed 
up  their  own  smoke  and  dashed  savagely  at  the  cavalry  with 
their  sabres.  Only  the  janissaries  would  have  been  capable 
of  such  daring,  but  they  paid  dearly  for  it,  because  the 
troopers  who  could  not  have  restrained  their  horses  even  if 
they  had  wanted  to,  struck  them  like  a  hammer,  and,  break- 
ing them  in  an  instant,  spread  destruction  and  terror  in 
their  ranks.  The  first  rank  fell  beneath  the  force  of  the 
blow  like  grain  before  a  whirlwind.  -  It  is  true  that  many 
of  them  fell  only  from  the  impact,  and  these  regained  their 
feet  and  ran  in  disorder  to  the  river,  from  where  the  second 
body  kept  on  firing,  aiming  high,  so  as  to  hit  the  dragoons 
over  the  heads  of  their  comrades. 

For  a  moment  the  janissaries  at  the  ferry  evidently  hesi- 
tated whether  to  embark  or  follow  the  example  of  the  other 
detachment  and  come  to  close  quarters  with  the  cavalry.  But 
they  were  restrained  from  the  latter  course  by  the  sight  of 
groups  of  fugitives  were  pressed  upon  by  the  chests  of  the 
horses  and  hacked  so  terribly  by  the  troopers  that  their  fury 
was  only  equalled  by  their  skill.  Now  and  then  a  group  too 
hotly  pressed  turned  in  desperation  and  began  to  bite  like  an 
animal  at  bay  when  it  sees  that  it  cannot  escape.  And  then 
those  on  the  bank  could  see  as  plainly  as  in  their  palms  that 
it  was  not  possible  to  meet  that  cavalry  with  cold  steel,  so 
far  superior  were  they  in  its  use.  The  defenders  were  slashed 
with  such  regularity  and  rapidity  that  it  was  impossible  for 
the  eye  to  follow  the  movements  of  the  sabres.  As  when 
skillfull  laborers  shelling  well-dried  peas  strike  quickly  and 
continuously  on  the  threshing  floor  till  the  whole  place  re- 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

sounds  with  their  blows  and  the  peas  are  jumping  in  all  di- 
rections, so  did  the  whole  river-bank  resound  with  the  blows 
of  the  sabres  and  the  groups  of  janissaries,  mercilessly  slashed, 
sprang  hither  and  thither  like  peas  out  of  a  pod. 

Pan  Vasilkovski  charged  at  the  head  of  the  cavalry,,  reck- 
less of  his  own  life.  But  as  a  trained  reaper  surpasses  a  youth 
much  stronger  but  less  skillful  at  the  sickle  than  himself, — 
for  while  the  youth  is  toiling  covered  with  streams  of  pers- 
piration, the  other  goes  steadily  on  and  cuts  down  the  hay 
before  him  evenly, — so  did  Pan  Volodiycvski  surpass  the 
impetuous  youth  Vasilkovski.  Before  attacking  the  janis- 
saries he  let  the  dragoons  go  forward,  while  he  himself  re- 
mained somewhat  in  the  rear  to  watch  the  whole  battle. 
Standing  thus  at  a  distance,  he  kept  careful  watch,  but 
every  now  and  then  he  would  spring  into  the  melee  and 
strike  and  give  directions,  and  then  again  would  allow  the 
battle  to  recede  and  then  again  he  would  watch  and  strike. 
As  always  happens  in  a  light  with  infantry,  so  then  also 
seme  of  the  fugitives  were  left  in  the  rear  of  the  cavalry. 
These,  having  their  retreat  to  the  river  cut  off,  fled  back  to- 
wards the  town  to  hide  among  the  sunflowers  that  were  grow- 
ing in  front  of  the  houses;  but  Volodiyovski  saw  them.  He 
came  up  with  the  first  two  and  gave  each  a  light  blow;  they 
immediately  fell  and,  digging  their  heels  into  the  earth,  their 
souls  escaped  with  their  blood  through  the  gaping  wounds. 
When  he  saw  this  a  third  janissary  fired  at  the  little  knight 
with  his  musket  but  missed;  and  the  little  knight  struck  him 
with  the  edge  of  his  sword  between  the  nose  and  mouth  and 
slew  him.  Without  any  delay  Pan  Michael  then  sprang  after 
the  others,  and  no  village  boy  gathers  a  clump  of  mushrooms 
so  quickly  as  he  gathered  those  men  before  they  reached  the 
sun-flowers.  Only  the  last  two  were  seized  by  soldiers  of 
Jvanets  and  these  the  little  knight  ordered  to  be  kept  alive. 

IVing  now  warmed  up  and  seeing  that  the  janissaries  were 
being  hotly  pressed  at  the  river,  he  sprang  into  the  thick  of 
the  fight  and  joining  the  dragoons  began  to  work  in  earnest. 
First  he  struck  in  front  and  then  turned  to  right  or  left, 
thrusting  once  with  his  sword,  and  paying  no  further  atten- 
tion; a  white  cap.fell  to  the  earth  with  each  thrust.  The  jan- 
issaries began  to  crowd  away  from  him  with  loud  cries;  he 
redoubled  the  rapidity  of  his  blows  and  though  he  remained 
calm  himself  no  eye  could  follow  the  play  of  his  sword  and 
know  when  he  would  strike  and  when  he  would  thrust,  for 
his  blade  described  a  gleaming  circle  around  him. 


454  PAN   MICHAEL. 

Pan  Lantskoronski,  who  had  long  heard  him  quoted  as  a 
master  of  masters,  but  had  not  hitherto  seen  him  in  action, 
ceased  fighting  and  looked  on  astonished,  unable  to  believe 
his  own  eyes  that  one  man,  though  a  master,  and  celebrated 
as  the  best  cavalier,  could  accomplish  so  much.  Consequently 
he  raised  his  'hand  to  his  head  and  his  companinos  heard 
.  him  keep  repeating:  "As  God  lives,  they  have  told  me  very 
little  about  him  as  yet!"  And  others  cried,  "Look  at  him, 
for  you  won't  see  that  again  in  this  world!"  But  Volodiy- 
ovski  labored  on. 

The  janissaries  driven  down  to  the  river  now  began  to 
throng  into  the  scows  in  disorder.  As  the  scows  were  suffi- 
cient in  number  and  there  were  fewer  to  return  than  had 
come,  they  quickly  and  easily  took  their  places.  Then  the 
heavy  oars  moved  and  a  space  of  water  momentarily  widened 
between  the  janissaries  and  the  bank. 

But  the  rattle  of  musketry  began  to  rise  from  the  scows, 
to  which  the  dragoons  replied;  litlle  clouds  of  smoke  rose 
over  the  water  and  trailed  in  bands.  The  scows  with  the 
janissaries  were  receding  every  moment.  The  dragoons  who 
were  left  in  possession  of  the  field  uttered  a  fierce  shout  and 
shaking  their  fists,  cried: 

"Ah,  off  with  thee,  thou  dog,  off  with  thee!" 

Though  the  balls  were  still  plashing  Pan  Lantskoronski 
threw  his  arms  around  Volodiyovski  right  on  the  bank  and 
said: 

"I  did  not  believe  my  own  eyes;  my  benefactor,  those  are 
marvels  that  deserve  a  golden  pen!" 

"Natural  aptitude  and  training,  that's  all.  How  many 
wars  have  I  gone  through?" 

Then,  returning  Pan  Lantskoronski's  pressure,  he  freed 
himself  from  his  embrace,  and  looking  toward  the  bank  he 
said: 

"Watch,  your  lordship,  you  will  see  another  personality." 
i  The  Under-Chamberlain  turned  and  saw  an  officer  on  the 
1  bank  drawing  a  bow. 

It  was  Pan  Mushalski. 

Hitherto  the  famous  archer  had  been  engaged  with  the 
others  in  a  hand  to  hand  fight  with  the  foe;  but  now  that  he 
janissaries  had  reached  so  far  that  bullets  could  not  reach 
them,  he  drew  his  bow  and,  standing  on  the  highest  point 
of  the  bank,  he  first  tried  the  string  with  his  finger  and 
when  it  twanged  sharply  he  fitted  a  feathered  arrow  on  it 
and  took  aim. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  455 

At  that  instant  Volodiyovski  and  Lantskoronski  looked 
at  him.  It  was  a  beautiful  picture.  The  archer  was  sitting 
on  his  horse  with  his  left  arm  extended  and  holding  the 
bow  as  if  in  a  vice.  He  drew  back  his  right  hand  powerfully 
to  his  breast  till  the  veins  on  his  brow  swelled,  and  took  care- 
ful aim.  In  the  distance,  beneath  a  cloud  of  smoke,  a 
number  of  scows  were  visible  on  the  river  which  was  very 
high  with  melted  mountain  snow  and  so  transparent  that 
the  scows  and  the  janissaries  sitting  in  them  were  reflected 
in  the  water  Pistols  were  silent  'on  the  bank  and  all  eyes 
were  turned  on  Pan  Mushalski,  or  gazing  in  the  direction 
which  the  murderous  arrow  was  about  to  take. 

Then  the  string  loudly  twanged  and  the  feathered  arrow 
left  the  bow.  No  eye  could  follow  its  fight;  but  everybody 
saw  a  sturdy  janissary  standing  at  an  oar  sudednly  throw  up 
his  arms  and  stagger  and  fall  into  the  water.  The  trans- 
parent surface  splashed  up  under  his  weight  and  Pan  Mu- 
shalski said: 

"For  thee,  Didyuk!" 

Then  he  took  another  arrow.  "In  honor  of  the  Hetman," 
he  said  to  his  companions. 

They  held  their  breath;  presently  the  air  again  whistled 
and  a  second  janissary  fell  in  the  bottom  of  the  scow. 

The  oars  began  to  move  more  quickly  on  all  the  scows 
and  struck  the  clear  stream  more  powerfully;  but  the  famous 
archer  turned  with  a  smile  to  the  little  kinght. 

"In  honor  of  the  worthy  wife  of  your  lordship." 

A  third  time  the  bow  was  bent;  a  third  time  he  despatched 
a  bitter  arow;  and  a  third  time  it  sank  half  its  length  into 
the  body  of  a  man.  A  shout  of  triumph  arose  on  the  bank 
and  a  shout  of  rage  from  the  scows.  Pan  Mushalski  then 
withdrew  and  the  other  victors  of  the  day  followed  him  into 
the  town. 

On  their  return  they  were  rejoiced  to  look  upon  the  har- 
vest of  that  day.  Few  of  the  horde  had  fallen,  for  they  had 
not  made  even  one  good  stand,  and  when  scattered  they 
quickly  recrossed  the  river.  But  the  janissaries  lay  to  the 
number  of  several  dozens  like  neatly-bound  sheaves.  Pan 
Volodiyovski  said  as  he  looked  at  them: 

"Brave  infantry!  the  men  rush  to  battle  like  wild-boars; 
but  they  don't  know  more  than  half  what  the  Swedes  do." 

"They  fired  as  a  man  would  crack  nuts,"  said  the  Under- 
Chamberlain. 


456 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


"Tliat  caine  naturally,  not  from  training,  for  they  have 
no  general  training.  They  were  of  the  Sultan's  guard  and 
have  some  kind  of  discipline;  in  addition  to  these  there  are 
irregular  janissaries  who  are  greatly  inferior." 

"We  have  given  them  a  souvenir!  God  is  gracious  to  per- 
mit us  to  begin  the  war  with  such  a  noteworthy  victory. 

But  the  experienced  Pan  Volodiyevski  thought  otherwise. 

"This  is  a  small  and  insignificant  success,"  he  said,  "it 
is  good  enough  to  inspirit  untrained  men  and  citizens,  hut  it 
will  be  fruitless." 

"But  do  you  not  think  it  will  dispirit  the  Infidels?" 

"The  Infidels  will  not  be  discouraged,"  he  said. 

Thus  conversing  they  reached  the  town,  where  the  people 
delivered  up  the  two  captured  janissaries  who  had  tried  to 
hide  from  Pan  Volodiyovski  in  the  sun-flowers. 

One  was  slightly  wounded  and  the  other  was  quite  sound 
and  full  of  wild  courage.  In  the  castle  the  little  knight  who 
understod  Turkish  well  enough  though  he  did  not  speak 
it  fluently,  asked  Pan  Makovyetska  to  question  the  man.  Pan 
Makovyetska  inquired  whether  the  Sultan  himself  were  in 
Khotsim  and  would  soon  come  to  Kamenets. 

The  Turk  replied  clearly  and  boldly: 

"The  Padishah  himself  is  present.  In  the  camp  it  was 
said  that  to-morow  the  Pashas  Halim  and  Murad  would  cross 
with  Mehentysy.  To-morrow  or  the  day  after  the  hour  of 
destruction  will  strike  for  you." 

Here  the  prisoner  put  his  hands  on  his  hips  and,  confident 
in  the  terror  inspired  by  the  name  of  the  Sultan,  continued: 

"Mad  Poles!  how  did  you  dare  in  the  presence  of  the 
Sultan  to  attack  us  and  slay  his  men?  Do  you  think  that 
you  will  escape  harsh  punishment?  Do  you  think  that  this 
little  castle  will  protect  you?  What  will  you  be  in  a  few 
days  but  captives?  What  are  you  to-day  but  dogs  flying  at 
your  master's  face?" 

Pan  Makovyetska  carefully  wrote  down  everything;  but 
Pan  Volodiyovski  struck  him  in  the  face  for  his  last  words, 
to  temper  the  insolence  of  the  prisoner.  The  Turk  was  sur- 
prised and  immediately  became  more  respectful  to  the  little 
knight  and  began  to  express  himself  more  mildly.  When  the 
examination  was  ended  and  they  had  brought  him  to  the 
hall  Pan  Volodiyovski  said: 

"We  must  send  these  prisoners  and  their  confession  at  full 
speed  to  Warsaw,  for  at  the  court  of  the  king  they  do  not 
yet  believe  that  war  is  imminent! 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


457 


"AYhat  are  the  Mehentysy  with  whom  ITalil  and  Murad 
have  to  be  provided,"  asked  Pan  Lantskoronski. 

"Mehentysy  a.re  engineers  to  prepare  the  earthworks  for 
the  guns." 

"'And  what  do  you  think,  gentlemen,  did  that  prisoner  tell 
the  truth,  or  did  he  lie  altogether?" 

"IT  you  like,  gentlemen/'  answered  Volodiyovski,  "it  is 
possible  to  burn  his  heels.  I  have  a  sergeant  who  executed 
Azya,  the  son  of  Tukhay  Bey  and  who  is  exquisitissimus  at 
that  business,  but  in  my  opinion  the  janissary  told  the  exact 
truth.  The  passage  will  soon  commence,  we  cannot  prevent 
it, — no!  even  if  we  were  a  hundred  times  more  numerous. 
The  only  thing  left  is'  to  get  together  and  go  to  Kamenets 
with  the  news." 

"I  have  done  so  well  at  Jvanets  that  I  should  be  very 
pleased  to  shut  myself  up  in  the  castle,"  said  the  Under- 
Cbamberlam,  "if  I  were  sure  that 'you  would  occasionally 
come  with  aid  from  Kamenets.  After  that  let  what  will  hap- 
pen !" 

"They  have  two  hundred  cannon,"  said  Pan  Michael;  "and, 
if  they  bring  two  heavy  guns  across,  this  castle  cannot  hold 
out  for  one  day.  I  also  wanted  to  shut  myself  up  here,  but 
now  I  see  that  it  would  be  futile." 

The  others  agreed  with  the  litlte  knight.  Pan  Lantskor- 
ontski,  as  though  to  parade  his  courage,  still  insisted  for  a 
time  on  staying  at  Jvanets,  but  he  was  too  experienced  a  sol- 
dier not  to  see  that  Volodiyovski  was  right.  At  last  he  was 
interrupted  by  Pan  Vasllkovski  who  rushed  in  haste  from 
the  field  into  the  castle. 

"Worthy  gentlemen,"  he  cried,  "the  river  is  not  to  be  seen; 
the  whole  Dniester  is  covered  with  craft." 

"Are  they  crossing?"  everybody  asked  at  once. 

"They  are,  as  I  live!  The  Turks  are  on  rafts  and  the 
chambuls  are  fording  by  the  horses'  tails." 

Pan  Lantskoronski  hesitated  no  longer;  he  gave  orders 
at  once  for  the  old  howitzer  to  be  sunk  and  for  the  other 
tilings  either  to  be  hidden  or  to  be  carried  to  Kamanets.  Pan 
Michael  darted  to  his  horse  and  with  his  men  went  to  a  dis- 
tant eminence  to  watch  the  passage. 

The  Pashas  Halil  and  Murad  were  indeed  crossing.  As 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach  it  saw  scows  and  rafts  propelled 
by  oars  with  measured  strokes  in  the  clear  water.  Janissaries 
and  spahis  were  moving  together  in  great  force,  for  craft 


PA  A7   MIC  HALL. 

for  the  passage  had  long  been  prepared  at  Khotsim.  -^lore- 
over  great  masses  of  troops  were  standing  on  the  bank  in  the 
distance.  Pan  Michael  had  supposed  that  they  would  build 
a  bridge,  but  the  Sultan  had  not  yet  moved  his  main  army. 
Meanwhile  Pan  Lantskoronski  arrived  with  his  men  and  they 
set  out  for  Kamenets  with  the  little  knight.  Pain  Pototski 
was  awaiting  them  in  the  city.  His  quarters  were  full  of 
(  the  commanding  officers,  and  in  fro-nt  of  the  quarters  were 
assembled  both  sexes  disquieted,  careworn,  and  curious. 

"The  enemy  is  crossing  and  Jvanets  is  occupied!"  said  the 
little  knight. 

"The  works  are  completed,  and  we  are  waiting,"  replied 
Pan  Pototski. 

The  tidings  spread  to  the  crowd  who  began  to  make  a 
noise  like  waves. 

"To  the  gates!  to  the. gates!"  resounded  through  the  city. 
"The  foe  is  in  Jvanets!"  Men  and  women  ran  to  the  fortifi- 
actions  expecting  to  see  the  foe;  but  the  soldiers  would  not 
let  them  go  to  the  strategetical  points. 

"Go  home!"  they  cried  to  the  crowds;  "you  will  hinder 
the  defence.  Your  wives  will  soon  see  the  Turks  close  at 
hand." 

However  there  was  no  terror  in  the  city,  for  the  news  of 
that  day's  victory  had  already  spread  and  it  was  naturally  ex- 
aggerated. The  soldiers  related  marvels  of  the  encounter.. 

"Pan  Volodiyovski  defeated  the  janissaries,  the  Sultan's 
own  guard,"  was  repeated  by  every  lip.  "It  is  not  for  In- 
fidels to  measure  strength  with  Pan  Volodiyovski.  He  cut 
down  the  Pasha  himself.  The  Devil  is  not  so  terrible  as  he 
is  painted!  And  they  could  not  stand  against  our  troops. 
Good  for  you  dog-brothers!  Destruction  to  you  and  your 
Sultan!" 

The  women  again  appeared  at  the  entrenchments  and  bas- 
tions laden  with  flasks  of  gorzalka,  wine,  and  mead.  This 
(  time  they  were  gladly  welcomed  and  the  soldiers  became 
!  very  joyful.  Pan  Pototski  did  not  object  to  this  as  he  wanted 
to  stimulate  the  courage  and  cheerfulness  of  the  men,  and 
because  there  was  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  ammunition 
in  the  city  and  castle  he  allowed  them  to  fire  salvos  in  the 
hope  that  these  -sounds  of  joy  would  dispirit  the  foe  if  it 
should  hear  them. 

Pan  Volodiyovski  remained  at  the  quarters  of  the  General 
of  Podolia  till  nightfall  and  then  he  mounted  his  horse  and 


PAN  MICHAEL.  459 

tried  to  escape  unobserved  with  his  servant  to  the  con- 
vent, with  the  desire  of  being  with  his  wife  as  soon  as 
possible  But  his  attempt  was  frustrated,  for  he  was  recog- 
nized and  crowds  surrounded  his  horse.  Shouts  and  vivats 
arose.  Mothers  lifted  up  their  children  to  him. 

"There  he  is!  look  at  him,  remember  him!"  cried  many 
voices.  He  was  greatly  admired;  but  people  who  knew  noth- 
ing about  war  were  astonished  at  his  diminutive  stature. 
They  could  not  get  it  into  their  heads  that  so  small  a  man 
with  such  a  pleasant  face,  could  be  the  Commonwealth's 
most  terrible  soldier,  and  one  whom  none  could  resist  But 
he  rode  through  the  throngs  and  smiled  from  time  to  time, 
for  he  was  gratified.  When  he  arrived  at  the  convent  he 
fell  into  Bashka's  open  arms 

She  already  knew  of  the  deeds  he  had  performed  that  day 
and  of  all  his  masterly  strokes;  the  Under-Chamberlain  of 
Podolia  had  just  left  the  convent  and,  as  an  eye-witness,  he 
had  given  her  a  detailed  report.  At  the  beginning  of  his 
tale  Bashka  had  called  in  all  the  women  present  in  the  con- 
vent,— the  ladies  Pototska,  Makovyetska,  Humyetska,  Ket- 
ling,  and  Hotsimirska, — and  as  the  Under-Chamberlain  pro- 
ceeded she  began  to  be  greatly  puffed  up  in  their  presence. 
Volodiyovski  arrived  just  after  the  women  had  gone.  After 
the  greetings  the  wearied  knight  sat  down  to  supper.  Basia 
sat  beside  him,  heaped  his  plate  with  food  and  poured  mead 
into  his  goblet.  He  was  glad  to  eat  and  drink  for  scarcely 
anything  had  passed  his  lips  the  whole  day.  In  the  intervals 
of  eating  he  would  tell  something  to  Bashka,  who  listened 
with  sparkling  eyes  and  shook  her  head  as  was  her  wont  and 
asked: 

"Aha!    Well!    What  then?   what  then?" 

"There  are  powerful  and  very  savage  men  among  them, 
but  it  is  difficult  to  find  a  Turk  who  is  a  swordsman,"  said  the 
little  knight. 

"Then  I  could  meet  any  of  them?' 

"You  could,  but  you  won't,  for  I  won't  take  you." 

"Not  for  once  in  my  life?  You  know,  little  Michael,  when 
you  go  outside  the  walls  I  am  not  even  restless;  I  know  that 
no  one  can  touch  you." 

^But  can't  they  shoot  me?" 

"Be  quiet!  Is  there  not  a  Lord  God?  You  will  not  let 
them  cut  you  down,  and  that's  the  chief  thing." 

"T  will  not  let  one  or  two  slay  me/' 

"Nor  three,  Michael,,  nor 


460  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"Nor  four  thousand/  'said  Zagloba,  imitating  her.  "If 
you  only  knew,  Michael,  how  she  behaved  while  the  Under- 
Chamberlain  was  telling  the  story!  I  thought  I  should  burst 
with  laughter.  As  I  love  Grod!  she  snorted  just  like  a  goat 
and  looked  each  woman  in  the  face  to  see  if  she  was  properly 
impressed.  I  was  afraid  that  at  last  the  goat  would  begin 
to  butt; — no  very  decent  spectacle." 

The  little  knight  stretched  himself  after  his  meal,  for  he 
was  quite  tired;  then  he  suddenly  drew  Basia  to  his  side  and 
said: 

"My  quarters  in  the  castle  are  prepared,  but  I  don't  want 
to  go  back.  Bashka,  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  stay  here  /to- 
night!' ' 

"As  you  please,  little  Michael,"  she  replied  lowering  her 
eyes. 

"Aha!"  cried  Zagloba,  "they  regard  me  here  as  a  mush- 
room instead  of  a  man,  for  the  abbess  invites  me  to  live  in 
the  convent.  But  I'll  pay  her  out;  my  head  on  it!  Have 
you  noticed  how  Pan!  Hotsomirska  is  casting  eyes  at  me? 
.  .  .  She's  a  young  widow, — all  right! — I  won't  say  any 
more." 

"I  think  I'll  stay,'  'said  the  litlte  knight. 

"If  you  will  only  rest  well,"  said  Basia. 

"Why  shouldn't 'he  rest?"  cried  Zagloba 

"Because  we  shall  talk,  and  talk,  and  talk." 

Pan  Zagloba  wanted  to  retire  and  turned  to  look  for  his 
cap;  at  last  when  he  found  it,  he  put  it  on  his  head  and  said: 

"You  will  not  talk,  and  talk,  and  talk." 

Then  he  went  out. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  next  morning  at  daybreak  the  little  knight  went  to 
Knyahin  where  he  fought  with  the  Spahis  and  captured  Buluk 
Pasha,  a  famous  warrior  among  the  Turks.  He  spent  the 
whole  day  in  the  field,  and  part  of  the  night  taking  council 
with  Pan  Pototski,  and  not  till  the  first  cock-crow  did  he  lay 
down  his  tired  head  for  a  little  sleep.  But  he  had  scarcely 
fallen  into  a  sweet  and  deep  slumber  when  he  was  aroused  by 
the  thunder  of  cannon.  His  'faithful  Jmudjian  friend  and 
servant  Pientk  came  into  the  -room. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  "the  enemy  is  before  the  city." 

The  little  knight  jumped  out  and  asked: 

"What  guns  are  those?" 

"Ours,  ours,  frightening  the  Pagans.  There  is  a  larg'e  body 
driving  cattle  off  the  meadows." 

"Are  they  janissaries  or  cavalry?" 

"'Cavalry:  quite  sorcerers!  Our  side  is  frightening  them 
with  the  Holy  Cross,  for  who  knows  but  that  they  are  devils?" 

"Devils  or  no  devils,  we  must  be  at  them,"  said  the  little 
knight.  "Go  to  the  lady  and  tell  her  that  I  am  in  the  field.. 
If  she  likes  to  come  to  the  castle  to  watch  she  may,  if  she 
comes  with  Pan  Zagloba,  for  I  have  the  greatest  confidence  in 
his  foresight." 

Half  an  hour  later  Pan  Michael  rode  into  the  field  at  the 
head  of  some  dragoons  and  volunteer  nobles  who  thought 
they  would  have  an  opportunity  to  distinguish  themselves  in 
skirmishing.  From  the  old  castle  a  perfect  view  was  to  be 
had  of  the  cavalry,  about  two  thousand  in  number,  partly 
composed  of  spahis,  but  principally  of  the  Egyptian  guard  of 
the  Sultan.  In  the  latter  served  wealthy  and  generous  mame- 
lukes  from  the  Nile.  Their  mail  of  shining  scales,  their  bril- 
liant kefis,  woven  with  gold,  on  their  heads,  their  white 
burnooses  and  their  weapons  set  with  jewels,  made  them  the 
most  brilliant  cavalry  in  the  world.  They  were  armed  with 
darts  fixed  on  jointed  canes,  and  curved  swords,  and  knives. 
Mounted  on  horses  as  swift  as  the  wind,  they  swept  over  the 


4g2  PAN  MICHAEL. 

field  like  a  rainbow-colored  cloud,  yelling  and  brandishing 
the  deadly  darts.  The  Poles  in  the  castle  could  not  look  at 
them  enough. 

Pan  Volodiyovski  advanced  against  them  with  his  cavalry. 
However  it  was  difficult  for  both  sides  to  meet  with  cold  steel 
as  the  Turks  were  held  in  check  by  the  cannon  of  the  castle 
and  they  were  too  numerous  for  the  little  knight  to  go  to 
them  and  have  a  trial  of  strength  out  of  the  range  of  their 
own  cannon.  So  for  some  time  both  sides  circled  about  at  a 
distance  brandishing  their  weapons  and  uttering  loud  cries. 
But  at  length  these  empty  threats'  evidently  grew  distasteful 
to  the  fiery  sons  of  the  desert,  for  suddenly  single  horsemen 
began  to  separate  from  the  mass  and  advance,  calling  loudly 
to  their  opponents.  Soon  they  scattered  over  the  field  and 
gleamed  on  it  like  flowers  driven  in  A^arious  directions  by  the 
wind.  Volodiyovski  looked  at  his  own  men. 

"Worthy  gentlemen/'  he  said,  "they  are  challenging  us. 
Who  will  go  to  the  skirmish?" 

The  fiery  cavalier,  Pan  Vasilkovski,  was  the  first  to  spring 
Out  followed  by  Pan  Mushalski,  the  infallible  archer,  but  also 
an  excellent  skirmisher  in  hand  to  hand  fight;  after  them 
came  Pan  Myazga  of  the  Prus  coat-of-arms  who  could  carry 
away  a  finger-ring  on  the  point  of  his  lance  at  full  gallop; 
after  Pan  Myazga  came  Pan  Teodor  Paderevski,  Pan  Ozievich, 
Pan  Shmlud-Plotski,  Prince  Ovsyani,  and  Pan  Murkos- 
Sheluta,  with  several  other  fine  cavaliers;  a  small  party  of  the 
dragoons  also  went,  attracted  by  the  hope  of  rich  spoil,  and 
most  of  all,  by  the  matchless  horses  of  the  Arabs.  The  grim 
Lusnia  headed  the  dragoons,  gnawing  his  yellow  moustache 
and  picking  out  the  richest  foe  from  a  distance. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day.  They  were  perfectly  visible.  One 
by  one  the  cannon  on  the  walls  became  silent,  till  at  last  all 
firing  had  ceased,  for  the  gunners  were  afraid  of  hurting  their 
own  men;  they  also  preferred  to  watch  the  fray  than  to  fire  at 
scattered  skirmishers.  The  two  sides  advanced  towards  each 
other  at  a  walk,  at  first  leisurely  and  then  at  a  trot,  not  in  line 
"but  independently  as  each  man  pleased.  At  length,  as  they 
neared  each  other,  they  reined  in  their  horses  and  began  to 
abuse  one  another  to  excite  their  own  anger  and  courage. 

"You  will  not  put  on  any  flesh  with  us,  Infidel  dogs!"  cried 
the  Poles.  "Your  foul  Prophet  will  not  protect  you  here!" 

The  others  responded  in  Turkish  and  Arabic.  Many  of 
the  skirmishing  Poles  were  acquainted  with  both  tongues,  for. 


.  PAN  MICHAEL.  463 

like  the  famous  archer,  many  had  passed  through  harsh 
captivity;  and  so,  when  the  Infidels  blasphemed  the  Most 
Holy  Virgin  with  special  insolence,  the  servants  of  Mary  felt 
their  hair  stand  up  on  their  heads  with  rage  and  Uhey  spurred 
their  horses  forward  to  take  vengeance  on  those  who  insulted 
her  name. 

Who  struck  the  first  blow  and  deprived  a  man  of  precious 
life?  First  Pan  Mushalski  with  an  arrow  pierced  a  young 
bey,  with  a  purple  kefi  on  his  head  and  dressed  in  mail  of 
silver  scales  bright  as  moonlight.  The  agonising  shaft  sank 
below  his  left  eye,  burying  itself  half  its  length  in  his  head. 
Tie  threw  back  his  beautiful  head  and  spread  out  his  arms  and 
fell  from  his  hors-e.  The  archer  put  his  bow  under  his  thigh 
and  sprang  forward  and  cut  him  with  the  sabre  in  addition; 
then,  seizing  the  bey's  beautiful  weapons,  and  driving  his 
horse  towards  the  castle  with  the  flat  of  his  sword,  he  cried 
aloud  in  Arabic: 

"I  wish  he  were  the  Sultan's  own  son.  He  would  rot  here 
before  you  played  the  last  'kindya.'  r' 

"When  the  Turks  and  Egyptians  heard  that  they  were 
furious  and  two  beys  immediately  sprang  together  at  Pan 
Mushalski,  but  Lusnia,  who  was  as  savage  as  a  wolf,  inter- 
cepted them  from  one  side  and  bit  one  of  them  to  death  in  the 
twinkle  of  an  eya  He  first  slashed  him  over  the  hand  and, 
as  the  bey  stooped  for  his  fallen  scimitar,  Lusnia  almost 
severed  his  neck  with  a  terrible  stroke.  At  that  sight  the 
other  bey  wheeled  his  horse  as  swift  as  the  wind  to  escape,  but 
at  that  instant  Pan  Mushalski  again  took  his  bow  from  under 
his  thigh  and  sent  an  arrow  after  the  fugitive;  it  reached  him 
on  his  flight  and  sank  between  his  shoulder-blades  almost  to 
the  feathers. 

Pan  Shmlud-Plotski  was  the  third  to  finish  his  enemy, 
striking  him  on  the  helmet  with  a  sharp  battle-axe.  The 
blow  drove  in  the  silk  and  velvet  lining  of  the  steel  and  the 
hooked  point  of  the  axe  was  imbedded  so  firmly  in  the  skull 
that  for  some  time  Pan  Shmlud-Plotski  could  not  draw  it 
forth.  Others  fought  with  varied  fortune,  but  the  nobles, 
being  the  more  skilful  fencers,  were  generally  victorious. 
However  two  dragoons  fell  by  the  powerful  hand  of  Hamdi 
Bey,  who  then  clove  the  face  of  Prince  Ovsyani  with  a 
scimitar  and  stretched  him  on  the  field.  Prince  Ovsyani 
watered  his  native  soil  with  his  blood.  Hamdi  then  turned 
to  Pan  Sheluta,  whose  horse  had  put  its  foot  into  a  burrow. 


MICHAEL. 

Sheluta,  seeing  that  death  was  inevitable,  preferred  to  meet 
the  terrible  horseman  on  foot  and  sprang  to  the  ground.  But 
Hamdi  overthrew  the  Pole  with  the  chest  of  his  horse  and 
reached  the  falling  man's  arm  with  the  very  point  of  his 
scimitar.  The  arm  fell  and  the  bey  dashed  on  through  the 
field  in  search  of  other  adversaries. 

But  not  many  had  the  courage  to  meet  him,  as  he  was  so 
manifestly  and  greatly  their  superior  in  strength.  The  wind 
lifted  his  white  burnoose  on  his  shoulders  and  fluttered  it  like 
the  wings  of  a  bird  of  prey;  his  gold-wrought  mail  cast  an 
ominous  gleam  on  his  almost  black  countenance,  with  its  wild 
and  flashing  eyes;  a  scimitar  gleamed  above  his  head  like  the 
moon's  sickle  on  a  clear  night. 

The  famous  archer  despatched  two  arrows  at  him,  but  both 
merely  clashed  against  his  mail  and  fell  powerless  on  the 
grass.  After  the  second,  Pan  Mushalski  hesitated  whether  to 
shoot  a  third  at  the  neck  of  the  horse,  or  rush  on  the  bey  with 
his  sabre.  But  while  he  was  considering  the  bey  caught 
sight  of  him  and  spurred  his  black  stallion  towards  him. 

Both  met  in  the  middle  of  the  field.  With  the  desire  of 
exhibiting  his  great  strength  and  taking  Hamdi  alive,  Pan 
Mushalski  struck  up  his  scimitar  with  a  powerful  blow  and 
closed  with  him;  he  grasped  the  bey's  throat  with  one  hand 
and  his  pointed  helmet  with  the  other  and'  dragged  from  his 
horse.  But  his  own  saddle-girth  broke  and  the  matchless 
archer  slipped  with  it  and  fell  to  the  ground.  Hamdi  struck 
the  falling  man  on  the  head  with  the  hilt  of  his  scimitar  and 
stunned  him.  The  spahis  and  mamelukes,  who  had  been 
fearful  on  Hamdi's  account,  now  raised  joyous  shouts  and  the 
Poles  were  greatly  distressed.  Then  the  opposing  sides 
dashed  towards  each  other  in  thick  masses,  the  one  to  capture 
the  archer  and  the  other  to  protect  his  body. 

Until  now  the  little  knight  had  taken  no  part  in  the  skirm- 
ish, as  his  dignity  as  colonel  would  not  allow  it;  but,  on  seeing 
the  fall  of  Mushalski  and  the  mastery  of  Hamdi,  he  de- 
termined to  avenge  the  archer  and  at  the  same  time  give  heart 
to  his  own  men.  Fired  with  this  thought,  he  set  spurs  to 
his  horse  and  flew  across  the  field  as  swiftly  as  a  hawk  swoops 
on  a  flock  of  plover  circling  above  the  stubble.  Bashka  saw 
him  from  the  battlements  as  she  gazed  through  a  glass  and 
immediately  cried  out  to  Zagloba  at  her  side: 

"Michael  is  charging!  Michael  is  charging!" 

"You  will  recognize  him,"  answered  the  old  warrior, 
v* Watch  closely;  see  where  he  strikes  the  first  blow!  Fear  not!" 


PAN  MICHAEL.  465 

The  glass  shook  in  Bashka's  hand.  Though  as  yet  there 
was  no  discharge  in  the  field  from  bows  or  janissary  guns,  she 
was  not  greatly  alarmed  about  her  husband's  life,  still  she  was 
seized  with  ardor,  curiosity,  and  disquietude.  At  that  mo- 
ment her  heart  and  soul  seemed  to  have  left  her  body  and  to 
be  flying  after  him.  Her  breast  heaved  quickly  and  her  face 
flushed  deeply.  A-t  one  moment  she  had  leaned  so  far  over 
the  battlement  that  Zagloba  seized  her  by  the  waist  for  fear 
that  she  might  fall  in  to  the  moat. 

"Two  are  charging  Michael/7  she  cried. 

"There  will  be  two  less,"  replied  Zagloba. 

In  fact  two  spahis  came  out  against  the  little  knight.  They 
knew  from  his  uniform  that  he  was  a  man  of  some  importance 
and,  seeing  the  diminutive  size  of  the  horseman,  they  thought 
to  gain  glory  cheaply.  The  fools!  they  were  flying  to  certain 
death;  for,  when  they  came  up  the  little  knight  did  not  even 
rein  in  his  horse,  but  delivered  two  blows,  apparently  as  light 
as  when  a  mother  pushes  two  children  as  she  passes.  They 
both  fell  to  the  ground  and  dug  their  fingers  into  it  and 
writhed  like  two  lynxes  simultaneously  struck  by  two  death- 
dealing  arrows. 

The  little  knight  sped  on  towards  other  horsemen  dashing 
about  the  field  and  commenced  to  spread  terrible  disaster. 
As  at  the  end  of  Mass  a  boy  comes  in  with  a  metal  ex- 
tinguisher on  a  pole  and  puts  out  the  candles  on  the  altar  one 
after  another  and  the  altar  is  left  in  darkness,  so  Pan  Michael 
quenched  right  and  left  the  brilliant  Turkish  and  Egyptian 
horsemen  and  they  sank  into  the  shades  of  death.  The  Infi- 
dels recognized  a  master  above  all  others  and  their  hearts 
fainted  in  them.  One  by  one  they  turned  their  horses  so  as 
to  avoid  the  terrible  leader;  the  little  knight  pursued  the  fugi- 
tives like  a  vicious  wasp  and  pierced  one  after  another  with 
his  sting. 

At  this  sight  the  castle  gunners  uttered  joyous  shouts. 
Some  of  them  rushed  up  to  Basia  and  kissed  the  hem  of  her 
robe  in  the  height  of  their  enthusiasm;  others  abused  the 
Turks. 

"Restrain  yourself,  Basia!"  cried  Zagloba  every  few  mo- 
ments, while  he  kept  hold  of  her  waist;  but  Pani  Volodi- 
yovska  wanted  to  laugh  and  cry  and  clap  her  hands  and  shout 
and  watch  and  fly  to  her  husband  in  the  field. 

He  continued  to  despatch  spahis  and  Egyptian  beys,  till  at 
last  cries  of  "Hamdi!  Hamdi!"  arose  throughout  the  field. 


466  PA*   MICHAEL. 

The  followers  of  the  Prophet  called  aloud  for  their  greatest 
warrior  to  match  himself  with  this  terrible  little  cavalier  who 
appeared  to  be  Death  in  person. 

Hamdi  had  seen  the  little  knight  for  some  time;  but  at  the 
sight  of  his  exploits  he  was  simply  afraid  of  him.  He  was 
terrified  at  the  thought  of  risking  at  the  same  time  his  great 
fame  and  young  life  against  such  a  dread  opponent,  and  so  he 
pretended  not  to  see  him  and  began  to  busy  himself  at  the 
other  end  of  the  field.  He  had  just  put  an  end  to  Pan 
Yalbjyk  and  Pan  Kos  when  despairing  cries  of  "Hamdi! 
Hamdi!"  reached  his  ear.  He  saw  then  that  he  could  not 
keep  out  of  the  way  any  longer  and  that  he  must  win  bound- 
less glory  or  lose  his  life.  At  that  moment  he  uttered  so  shrill 
a  cry  all  the  cliffs  echoed  and  he  spurred  his  horse  as  swiftly 
as  a  whirlwind  towards  the  little  knight. 

Volodiyovski  saw  him  from  afar  and  also  dug  his  spurs  into 
the  sides  of  his  Wallachian  bay.  All  the  others  paused  in  the 
armed  dispute.  At  the  castle,  Basia,  who  had  just  before 
witnessed  all  the  deeds  of  the  terrrible  Hamdi-Bey,  became 
rather  pale  notwithstanding  her  blind  faith  in  the  little 
knight,  the  unconquerable  swordsman;  but  Zagloba  was  quite 
easy. 

"I  would  rather  be  the  heir  of  that  Infidel  than  that  Infidel 
himself,"  he  said  sententiously  to  Basia. 

Pientk,  the  slow  Jmudjian,  was  so  sure  of  his  master  that 
his  face  was  not  shaded  with  the  least  anxiety,  but  seeing 
Hamdi  charging  he  began  to  hum  a  popular  song: 

"0  thou  foolish,  foolish  watch-dog, 
That's  a  grey  wolf  from  the  forest. 
Why  dost  thou  chase  him 
If  thou  art  not  able  to  overcome  him?" 

The  champions  met  in  the  centre  of  the  field  between  the 
two  ranks  who  looked  on  from  a  distance.  For  a  moment 
the  hearts  of  all  died  within  them.  Then  serpentine  light- 
ning seemed  to  flash  in  the  bright  sun  above  the  heads  of  the 
combatants;  but  the  scimitar  flew  out  of  Hamdi's  hand  like 
an  arrow  from  a  bowstring;  he  bowed  on  his  saddle  as  if 
pierced  by  the  point  of  a  blade  and  closed  his  eyes.  Pan 
Volodiyovski  grasped  his  neck  with  his  left  hand  and  holding 
his  sabre  to  his  armpit,  turned  towards  his  own  men.  Hamdi 
offered  no  resistance;  he  even  spurred  his  horse  forward,  for 


PAN  MICHAEL. 


407 


he  felt  the  point  between  his  armpit  and  armor.  He  went 
like  one  stunned,  with  his  hands  hanging  powerless,,  and  tears 
began  to  fall  from  his  eyes.  Yolodiyovski  turned  him  over  to 
the  cruel  Lusnia,  and  himself  returned  to  the  field. 

Bat  trumpets  and  pipes  sounded  in  the  Turkish  ranks  as 
a  signal  for  the  skirmishers  to  retreat.  They  began  to  retire 
towards  their  own  troops,  carrying  with  them  humiliation, 
rage,  and  the  memory  of  the  terrible  horseman. 

"That  was  Shaitan!"  (Satan)  the  spahis  and  mamelukes 
said  to  each  other.  "He  who  meets  that  man  is  doomed  to 
death!  Shaitan,  no  other !" 

The  Polish  skirmishers  remained  for  some  time  to  show 
that  they  held  the  field;  then,  raising  three  shouts  of  victory, 
they  withdrew  under  the  cover  of  their  own  guns  which  Pan 
Pototski  ordered  to  fire  again.  But  the  Turks  began  to  re- 
treat altogether.  For  some  time  yet  their  burnooses  and  their 
colored  kefis  and  glittering  helmets  gleamed  in  the  sun  and 
then  disappeared  on  the  horizon. 

Only  the  Turks  and  Poles  who  had  fallen  beneath  the  sword 
remained.  Servants  came  out  of  the  castle  to  collect  and 
bury  their  own  people.  The  ravens  came  to  work  at  the 
burial  of  the  Infidels,  but  they  did  not  stay  long,  for  fresh 
legions  of  the  Prophet  frightened  them  away  that  evening. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

On  the  following  day  the  vizir  himself  arrived  before 
Kamenets  at  the  head  of  a  numerous  army  of  spahis,  janis- 
saries, and  general  levies  from  Asia.  From  the  great  strength 
of  his  force  it  was  concluded  that  he  would  storm  the  place 
at  once;  but  he  wished  only  to  examine  the  walls.  Engineers 
accompanied  him  to  inspect  the  fortress  and  earthworks.  Pan 
Myslishevski  this  time  went  out  against  the  vizir  with  some 
infantry  and  mounted  volunteers.  Another  skirmish  began 
which  was  favorable  to  the  besieged,  though  not  so  brilliant 
as  the  previous  day.  At  last  the  vizir  ordered  the  janissaries 
to  make  an  attempt  against  the  walls.  The  thunder  of  cannon 
at  once  shook  the  city  and  castle.  When  the  janissaries  came 
opposite  the  command  of  Pan  Podchaski  they  all  fired  a  great 
volley;  but  Pan  Podchaski  answered  from  above  with  a  well- 
directed  fire  and,  as  there  was  some  fear  of  cavalry  flanking 
the  janissaries,  they  retired  along  the  Jvanets  road  and  re- 
turned to  the  main  camp. 

In  the  evening  a  certain  Bohemian  slunk  into  the  city;  he 
had  been  a  groom  of  the  aga  of  the  janissaries  and  had  de- 
serted after  being  bastinadoed.  The  Poles  learned  from  him 
that  the  Turks  had  fortified  themselves  at  Jvanets  and  oc- 
cupied broad  meadows  on  this  side  of  the  Dlujka  village. 
They  made  minute  inquiries  of  the  fugitive  as  to  the  general 
opinion  among  the  Turks  whether  they  could  capture  Kamen- 
ets or  not.  He  replied  that  the  courage  of  the  army  was  high 
and  the  omens  were  favorable.  A  couple  of  days  before  a 
kind  of  column  of  smoke,  slender  at  the  base  and  expanding 
above  in  the  form  of  a  great  bush,  had  risen  from  the  earth 
in  front  of  the  Sultan's  pavilion.  The  muftis  had  inter- 
preted this  as  signifying  that  the  glory  of  the  Padishah  would 
reach  to  the  Heavens  and  that  he  would  be  the  ruler  to  crush 
Kamenets,  hitherto  impregnable.  This  had  greatly  strength- 
ened the  hearts  of  all  in  the  army.  The  fugitive  added:  "The 
Turks  fear  Pan  Hetman  Sobieski  and  relief;  they  remember 
of  old  the  danger  of  meeting  the  troops  of  the  Commonwealth 


J'.i'X   MICHAEL.  469 

in  the  open  field,  though  they  are  willing  to  meet  Venetians, 
Hungarians,  or  any  other  people.  But,  since  they  have  in- 
telligence that  there  are  no  troops  in  the  Commonwealth,  they 
are  generally  of  the  opinion  that  they  will  take  Kamenets, 
though  not  without  trouble.  Black  Mustafa,  the  kaimakan, 
has  simply  counselled  to  storm  the  walls;  but  the  more 
cautious  vizir  prefers  to  invest  the  city  with  regular  works 
and  rain  grenades  into  it.  After  the  first  skirmishes  the 
Sultan  agreed  with  the  vizir,  and  so  a  regular  siege  is  to  be 
looked  for." 

Thus  spoke  the  deserter.  On  hearing  this  news,  Pan  Potot- 
ski,  and  the  bishop,  the  Under-Chamberlain,  Pan  Volodi- 
yovski  and  all  the  other  superior  officers  were  greatly  grieved. 
They  had  reckoned  on  stormings  and  hoped  "by  the  defensive 
condition  of  the  place  to  repulse  them  with  severe  loss  to  the 
enemy.  They  knew  by  experience  that  storming-parties  suffer 
great  losses,  and  that  every  attack  repulsed  weakens  their 
courage  and  strengthens  that  of  the  besieged.  As  at  Zbaraj 
the  knights  at  last  came  to  delight  in  resistance,  battle,  and 
sorties,  so  the  inhabitants  of  Kamenets  might  acquire  the  love 
of  fight,  especially  if  every  attack  should  end  in  defeat  for 
the  Turks  and  victory  for  the  city. 

But  a  regular  siege,  in  which  the  digging  of  approaches  and 
mines  and  the  emplacement  of  guns  constitute  the  whole  mat- 
ter, would  only  tire  out  the  besieged,  weaken  their  spirit,  and 
incline  them  to  negotiate.  It  was  difficult  also  to  depend  upon 
sorties,  for  it  was  not  wise  to  strip  the  walls  of  soldiers,  and 
should  the  servants  and  others  be  led  beyond  the  walls,  they 
could  hardly  withstand  against  the  janissaries. 

When  they  considered  all  this  the  chief  officers  were  greatly 
troubled  and  it  seemed  less  likely  that  the  defence  would 
have  a  happy  ending.  In  fact  there  was  small  chance  of  suc- 
cess on  account  of  the  state  of  affairs  among  themselves  as 
well  as  on  account  of  the  Turkish  force.  Pan  Volodiyovski 
was  a  matchless  soldier  and  very  celebrated,  but  he  did  not 
possess  the  majesty  of  greatness.  The  man  who  has  the  sun 
in  himself  can  warm  all  others  wherever  they  may  be;  but  he 
who  is  merely  a  flame,  however  ardent,  can  only"  warm  those 
who  are  closest  to  him.  Thus  it  was  with  the  little  knight. 
He  did  not  know  how  to  inspire  others  with  his  own  spirit, 
and  could  not  do  it  even  as  he  could  not  impart  his  own  skill 
in  fencing.  Pan  Pototski,  the  supreme  chief,  was  no  war- 
rior; and  moreover  he  had  no  faith  in  himself,  or  in  others, 


470  MICHAEL. 

or  in  the  Commonwealth.  The  bishop  relied  principally  on 
negotiations;  his  brother  had  a  heavy  hand,  but  his  head  was 
equally  heavy.  Relief  was  improbable,  for,  though  the  Het- 
man,  Pan  Sobieski,  was  a  great  man,  he  had  no  power  at 
that  time.  Powerless  also  was  the  King  and  the  entire  Com- 
monwealth. 

On  the  16th  of  August  the  Khan  arrived  with  the  Horde, 
and  Doroshenko  with  his  Cossacks,  and  occupied  an  enormous 
expanse  of  the  fields  extending  from  Orynina.  Sufan  Kazi 
Aga  on  that  day  invited  Pan  Myslishevski  to  a  conference  and 
advised  him  to  surrender  the  place,  for  by  so  doing  he  would 
receive  more  favorable  conditions  that  had  ever  yet  been  heard 
of  in  the  history  of  sieges.  The  bishop  was  curious  to  learn 
what  were  these  favorable  conditions,  but  he  was  shouted 
down  in  the  council  and  a  refusal  was  sent  back  in  reply.  On 
the  18th  of  August  the  Turks  began  to  advance,  and  the  Sul- 
tan with  them. 

They  came  on  like  a  boundless  ocean, — infantry,  janissaries, 
and  spahis.  Each  pasha  led  the  forces  of  his  own  pashalik, 
comprising  inhabitants  of  Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa.  They 
were  followed  by  an  enormous  train  of  baggage-wagons,  drawn 
by  mules  and  buffaloes.  That  hundred-hued  swarm,  variously 
costumed  and  armed,  seemed  to  be  endless.  From  dawn  till 
night  those  leaders  kept  coming,  moved  from  place  to  place, 
stationed  posted  troops,  moved  about  in  the  fields  and  pitched 
their  tents,  that  occupied  such  tremendous  expanse  that  from 
the  towers  and  highest  points  of  Kameuets  not  a  field  free 
from  canvas  was  visible.  It  looked  to  the  gazers  as  if  snow 
had  fallen  and  covered  the  whole  region  round  about.  The 
work  was  accomplished  amid  volleys  of  musketry,  for  the 
jannissaries  protecting  it  fired  ceaselessly  at  the  walls  of  the 
fortress  and  were  answered  by  a  continuous  cannonade  from 
the  walls.  The  cliffs  echoed  the  thunder  and  smoke  rose  and 
obscured  the  blue  of  the  sky.  Towards  evening  Kamenets 
was  so  hemmed  in  that  nothing  could  leave  it  but  pigeons. 
The  firing  ceased  only  when  the  first  stars  began  to  twinkle. 

For  several  succeeding  days  the  firing  at  and  from  the  walls 
was  kept  up  without  ceasing.  It  resulted  in  great  loss  to  the 
besiegers,  for  immediately  a  group  of  janissaries  gathered 
within  range,  white  smoke  spurted  from  the  walls  and  balls 
fell  among  them,  scattering  them  like  a  flock  of  sparrows  when 
they  are  fired  at  with  fine  shot  from  a  musket.  In  the  mean- 
time the  Turks,  being  evidently  ignorant  that  in  both  castles 


PAN  MICHAEL.  47 ! 

and  in  the  town  there  were  long-range  guns,  pitched  their 
tents  too  near.  By  Pan  Michael's  advice  this  was  allowed, 
and  not  till  the  hour  of  rest,  when  the  soldiers  had  crowded 
into  those  tents  to  avoid  the  heat,  did  the  walls  roar  with  con- 
tinuous thunder.  Then  there  was  a  panic;  the  balls  tore 
through  the  tents,  broke  the  poles,  struck  the  soldiers,  and 
scattered  sharp  fragments  of  rock  about.  The  Janissaries  re- 
treated in  dismay  and  confusion,  uttering  loud  cries;  in  their 
flight  they  overturned  other  tents  and  carried  fear  with  them 
in  every  direction.  While  they  were  in  this  disorder  Pan 
Volodiyovski  fell  upon  them  with  troopers  and  hewed  them 
till  a  strong  force  of  cavalry  came  to  their  aid.  Ketling  prin- 
cipally directed  this  fire,  and  next  to  him  the  Polish  bailiff, 
Cyprian,  effected  the  most  havoc  among  the  Infidels.  He 
sighted  every  gun  and  applied  the  match  himself;  then  he 
would  shield  his  eyes  with  his  hand  and  watch  the  effect  of 
the  shot,  exulting  in  his  success. 

However,  the  Turks  were  digging  approaches,  making  in- 
trenchments,  and  arming  them  with  heavy  guns.  But,  before 
firing  them,  a  Turkish  envoy  came  under  the  walls,  fastened  a 
letter  from  the  Sultan  to  a  pike,  and  exhibited  it  to  the  be- 
sieged. The  Sultan  summoned  the  city  to  surrender,  while 
extolling  his  own  power  and  clemency  to  the  skies. 

"My  army,"  he  wrote,  "may  be  likened  to  the  leaves  of  the 
forest,  and  the  sands  of  the  sea.  Look  at  the  sky  and,  when 
you  see  the  countless  stars,  let  your  hearts  be  afraid  and  say 
one  to  another,  'Behold,  such  is  the  force  of  the  believers. 
But  because  I  am  a  king,  merciful  above  all  other  things, 
and  a  grandson  of  the  True  God,  I  receive  my  right  from  God. 
Know  that  I  hate  stubborn  men,  therefore  do  not  oppose 
my  will  but  surrender  your  city.  If  you  resist,  you  shall  all 
perish  under  the  sword,  and  no  voice  of  man  will  be  raised 
against  me." 

They  consulted  at  length  what  reply  to  give  to  this  letter 
and  rejected  Zagloba's  rash  advice  to  cut  off  a  dog's  tail  and 
send  it  by  way  of  a  response.  FinaMy  they  despatched  a  man 
named  Yuritsa,  who  was  well  versed  in  Turkish.  He  carried 
a  letter  that  read  as  follows: 

"We  have  no  desire  to  anger  the  Sultan,  but  we  do  not 
consider  it  our  duty  to  obey  him,  for  we  have  not  taken  an 
oath  to  him  but  to  our  own  lord.  We  will  not  surrender 
Kamenets,  for  we  are  bound  by  an  oath  to  defend  the  fortress 
and  churches  so  long  as  we  have  life." 


472  MICHAEL. 

After  this  reply  the  officers  went  to  their  posts  on  the  walls. 
Bishop  Lantskoronski  and  the  General  of  Podolia  took  ad- 
vantage of  their  absence  to  send  another  letter  to  the  Sultan, 
asking  for  an  armistice  of  four  weeks.  When  the  news  of 
this  spread  around  the  gates  there  was  an  uproar  and  clatter- 
ing of  sabres.  The  officers  said  to  each  other,  "Here  we  are 
roasting  at  the  guns  and  behind  our  backs  they  are  secretly 
sending  letters,  although  we  are  members  of  the  council." 

At  the  evening  'kindya/  the  officers  went  in  a  body  to  the 
General  of  Podolia,  with  the  little  knight  and  the  stolnik  of 
Latychov  at  their  head,  both  being  greatly  upset  by  what  had 
occurred. 

"How  is  this?"  asked  Makovyetska.  "Are  you  already 
thinking  of  surrendering,  since  you  have  sent  another  envoy? 
Why  was  this  done  without  informing  us?" 

"Indeed,"  said  the  little  knight,  "since  we  were  called  to 
the  council  it  was  wrong  to  send  any  letters  without  our 
knowledge.  Neither  will  we  allow  anyone  to  utter  the  word 
'surrender/  if  anybody  wants  to  do  so  let  him  resign  his 
post." 

His  lips  twitched  as  he  spoke;  since  he  was  a  soldier  of  the 
most  scrupulous  obedience  he  was  deeply  grieved  to  speak 
thus  against  his  superiors.  But  as  he  had  vowed  to  defend  the 
nastle  to  the  death,  he  thought:  "It  is  incumbent  on  me  to 
speak." 

The  General  of  Podolia  was  confused  and  replied: 

"I  thought  it  was  done  with  general  consent." 

"There  is  no  consent.    We  will  die  here!"  cried  many  voices. 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  the  General,  "for  faith  is 
dearer  to  me  than  life,  and  I  have  never  known  cowardice, 
and  never  shall.'  Noble  gentlemen,  stay  to  supper,  and  we 
shall  come  to  an  agreement  more  readily." 

But  they  would  not  stay. 

"Our  place  is  at  the  gates,  not  at  the  table,"  said  the  little 
knight. 

At  this  moment  the  biehop  arrived,  and,  learning  what  was 
the  matter,  he  at  once  turned  to  Pan  Makovyetska  and  the 
little  knight. 

•"Worthy  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "we  are  all  agreed  in  what 
we  have  at  heart  and  nobody  has  said  a  word  about  surrender- 
ing. I  sent  to  ask  for  an  armistice  for  four  weeks;  I  wrote 
thus:  'In  that  interval  we  will  send  to  our  king  for  help  and 
await  his  instructions  and  God  will  decide  the  rest." 

When  the  little  knight  heard  that  he  was  still  more  dis- 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

turbed,  but  now  he  was  carried  away  with  anger  and  scorn 
at  such  military  ideas.  A  soldier  from  his  boyhood,  he  could 
not  believe  his  ears,  nor  that  anybody  could  propose  an  armis- 
tice to  a  foe  to  allow  him  to  send  for  help. 

The  little  knight  looked  from  Makovyetska  to  the  other 
officers  and  they  looked  at  him. 

"Is  this  a  jest?"  cried  several  voices.  Then  they  were  all 
silent. 

"Your  lordship,"  at  last  said  Pan  Michael,  "I  fought 
through  the  Tartar,  Cossack,  Moscow,  and  Swedish  wars,  and 
I  never  heard  of  such  reasons.  The  Sultan  has  come  here  to 
please  himself,  not  us.  How  should  he  consent  to  an  armistice 
when  we  write  that  at  its  expiration  we  expect  assistance?" 

"If  he  does  not  consent,  the  situation  will  be  still  the  same," 
said  the  bishop. 

"Whoever  prays  for  an  armis-tice,"  said  Volodiyovski, 
"shows  fear  and  weakness,  and  whoever  looks  for  assistance 
doubts  his  own  strength.  The  Infidel  will  come  to  this  con- 
clusion from  your  letter,  and  thus  it  has  wrought  irreparable 
injury." 

When  the  bishop  heard  this  he  grew  sad  and  said: 

"I  might  be  elsewhere,  and  because  I  did  not  desert  my 
flock  in  time  of  need  I  have  to  submit  to  reprimand." 

The  little  knight  was  immediately  sorry  for  the  worthy 
prelate,  so  he  put  his  arms  about  his  knees  and  kissed  his 
hands  and  said: 

"God  preserve  me  from  uttering  any  reprimand  here;  but 
as  this  is  a  council;  I  speak  what  is  dictated  by  my  exper- 
ience." 

"What  is  to  be  done  then?  Let  the  fault  be  mine,  but  what 
is  to  be  done?  How  repair  the  harm?"  asked  the  bishop. 

"How  repair  the  harm?"  repeated  Volodiyovski. 

After  a  moment's  thought,  he  joyously  raised  his  head. 

"Well,  it  is  possible.  Worthy  gentlemen,  I  beg  you  to 
follow  me." 

He  went  out,  followed  by  the  officers.  A  quarter  of  an 
hour  later  all  Kamenets  shook  with  the  roar  of  cannon. 
Volodiyovski  dashed  outside  the  walls  with  volunteers,  and 
falling  upon  the  sleeping  janissaries  in  the  trenches,  he  sabred 
them  till  he  dispersed  and  drove  the  whole  force  to  the  main 
camp. 

Then  he  returned  to  the  General  of  Podolia  and  found  the 
bishop  with  him. 

"Here,"  he  cried  joyfully,  "here  is  counsel  for  Your  High- 
ness;" 


CHAPTER  XVin. 

After  that  sortie  the  night  passed  in  desultory  firing;  at 
dawn  it  was  announced  that  several  were  standing  near  the 
castle  waiting  till  men  were  sent  out  to  parley.  Let  be  what 
would  it  was  necessary  to  know  what  they  wanted,  and  so  the 
chiefs  Pan  Makovyetska  and  Pan  Myslishevski  were  deputed 
by  the  council  to  meet  the  Infidels. 

A  little  later  they  were  joined  by  Pan  Casimir  Humyetski 
and  they  went  out.  There  were  three  Turks, — Mukhtan-Bey, 
Salomi,  Pasha  of  Kustchuk,  and  Kozra,  an  interpreter.  The 
meeting  took  place  in  the  open  air  outside  the  castle  gate. 
On  seeing  the  envoys  the  Turks  began  to  bow  and  put  the 
tips  of  their  fingers  to  their  hearts,  mouths,  and  brows;  the 
Poles  politely  saluted  them,  and  inquired  their  mission. 
Salomi  replied: 

.  "Dear  men,  a  great  wrong,  over  which  all  who  love  justice 
must  weep,  has  been  done  to  our  Lord,  and  for  this  the  Eter- 
nal will  punish  you  unless  you  correct  it  without  delay.  Be- 
hold, of  your  own  will  you  sent  Yuritsa,  who  beat  his  fore- 
head before  our  vizir  and  prayed  him  for  a  suspension  of  hos- 
tilities. When  we,  trusting  in  your  virtue,  left  the  trenches, 
you  commenced  to  fire  on  us  with  cannon  and,  springing  out 
from  behind  the  walls,  you  strewed  the  ground  with  corpses 
to  the  very  tents  of  the  Padishah;  which  deed  cannot  go  un- 
punished unless  you  at  once  surrender  the  castle  and  the  city 
and  exhibit  great  regret  and  repentance." 

To  this  Makovyetska  made  reply: 

"Yuritsa  is  a  dog  who  exceeded  his  instructions,  for  he  or- 
dered his  attendants  to  display  a  white  flag,  for  which  he  will 
be  judged.  On  his  own  initiative  the  bishop  made  inquiries 
whether  an  armistice  could  be  arranged;  but  you  did  not  cease 
firing  during  the  despatch  of  those  letters.  (I  myself  am  wit- 
ness to  that,  since  I  was  wounded  in  the  mouth  by  shattered 
stones.)  So  that  you  have  no  right  to  ask  us  to  cease  firing. 
If  you  have  now  come  prepared  with  an  armistice,  it  is  well; 
if  not,  tell  your  lord,  dear  men,  that  we  will  defend  the  walls 

(474) 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


475 


and  town  as  before  until  we  perish,,  or,  what  is  more  certain, 
until  you,  dear  men,  perish  among  these  rocks.  We  have 
nothing  more  to  give  you  except  wishes  that  God  may  multiply 
your  days  and  permit  you  to  live  to  an  old  age." 

Then  the-  envoys  immediately  separated.  The  Turks  re- 
turned to  the  vizir,  and  Makovyetska,  Humyetski,  and  Mys- 
lishevski  to  the  castle.  They  were  deluged  with  questions  as 
to  how  they  had  dismissed  the  envoys.  They  repeated  the 
Turkish  message. 

"Don't  accept  it,  dear  brothers,  "said  Casimir  Humyetski. 
"In  short,  those  dogs  want  us  to  deliver  up  the  keys  of  the 
city  before  evening." 

To  this  many  voices  answered  with  their  favorite  expres- 
sion: 

"That  Infidel  dog  will  not  put  on  flesh  with  us.  We  will 
not  surrender;  we  will  drive  him  away  in  disorder.  We  do 
not  want  him." 

After  this  decision  they  all  separated  and  the  firing  at  once 
recommenced.  The  Turks  had  already  succeeded  in  mounting 
many  heavy  guns  and  their  balls  flew  over  the  ramparts  and 
began  to  fall  into  the  city.  The  gunners  in  the  city  and 
castles  worked  in  the  sweat  of  their  brow  for  the  rest  of  the 
day  and  all  night.  When  a  man  fell  there  was  no  one  to  take 
his  place,  and  they  were  short  of  men  to  carry  ammunition. 
Not  till  nearly  dawn  did  the  uproar  somewhat  abate. 

But  the  day  was  scarcely  growing  grey  in  the  east  and  the 
rosy  gold-edged  band  of  dawn  appearing  when  the  alarm  was 
sounded  in  both  castles.  All  who  were  sleeping  sprang  to 
their  feet  and  drowsy  crowds  poured  into  the  streets  intently 
listening.  "They  are  getting  ready  to  storm,"  some  of  them 
said  to  the  others  as  they  pointed  in  the  direction  of  the  castle. 
"But  is  Pan  Volodiyovski  there?"  frightened  voices  asked. 
"He  is,"  others  replied. 

The  chapel  bells  were  rung  in  the  castles  and  everywhere 
was  heard  the  roll  of  drums.  In  the  morning  twilight,  when 
the  town  was  comparatively  silent, these  noises  sounded  solemn 
and  mysterious.  At  that  moment  the  Turks  played  the 
"kindya;"  one  band  took  it  up  from  another  and  so  it  rolled 
throughout  the  enormous  camp.  The  Infidels  began  to  swarm 
about  the  tents.  As  the  dawn  brightened,  the  mounds, 
trenches,  and  approaches  started  out  of  the  darkness  extend- 
ing in  a  long  line  facing  the  castle.  The  heavy  Turkish  guns 
immediately  thundered  along  the  whole  line;  the  cliffs  of  th« 


476  PAN   MICHAEL. 

Smotrych  echoed  back  the  thunder  and  the  noise  was  as 
dreadful  as  if  all  the  thunders  in  heaven's  magazine  has 
caught  fire  and  exploded  at  once  and  brought  down  the  dome 
of  clouds  with  them  to  the  earth. 

That  was  an  artillery  battle.  The  city  and  castles  gave 
mighty  response.  The  sun  and  daylight  were  soon  obscured 
by  the  smoke  and  the  Turkish  works  were  invisible.  Kamenets 
was  hidden  and  only  one  immense  cloud  filled  with  lightning, 
thunder  and  uproar,  was  to  be  seen.  But  the  guns  of  the 
Turks  carried  farther  than  those  of  the  city.  Death  soon 
began  to  cut  down  people  in  Kamenets.  Several  guns  were 
dismounted.  At  the  arquebuses  men  fell  by  twos  and  threes. 
A  Franciscan  Father  while  blessing  the  guns  had  his  nose  and 
part  of  his  lip  carried  away  by  a  wedge  from  under  a  cannon 
and  two  very  resolute  Jews  who  were  assisting  to  work  that 
gun  were  killed. 

But  the  Turkish  guns  played  principally  on  the  city  en- 
trenchments. Pan  Casimir  Humyetski  sat  there  like  a  sala- 
mander amid  tremendous  fire  and  smoke;  half  of  his  com- 
pany had  fallen  and  nearly  all  the  survivors  were  wounded. 
He  himself  had  lost  his  speech  and  hearing;  but  with  the  as- 
sistance of  the  Polish  mayor  he  silenced  the  enemy's  batter}', 
at  least  till  fresh  guns  were  brought  up. 

A  day  passed,  and  a  second,  and  third;  and  that  dreadful 
artillery  duel  did  not  cease  for  an  instant.  The  Turks  had 
four  reliefs  of  gunners  a  day;  but  in  the  city  the  same  men 
had  to  work  the  whole  time  without  sleep  and  almost  without 
food;  half-stifled  with  smoke,  many  were  wounded  with  flying 
masonry  and  splinters  of  the  gun-carriages.  The  soldiers 
were  steadfast  but  the  hearts  of  the  inhabitants  began  to  fail 
them.  At  la>st  it  became  necessary  to  drive  them  with  clubs 
to  the  guns,  where  they  fell  in  heaps.  Fortunately,  on  the 
third  evening,  from  Thursday  to  Friday,  the  guns  were 
chiefly  turned  on  the  castles. 

Both,  but  the  old  one  especially,  were  showered  with  bombs 
from  the  great  mortars  which,  however,  did  little  damage  be- 
cause each  grenade  was  visible  in  the  dark  and  a  man  could 
avoid  it.  But  towards  morning,  when  the  men  were  seized 
with  such  weariness  that  they  could  not  keep  their  feet,  they 
perished  in  considerable  numbers. 

The  little  knight,  Ketling,  Myslishevski,  and  Kvasibrodzi 
replied  to  the  Turkish  fire  from  the  castles.  The  General  of 
Podolia  visited  them  repeatedly  and  moved  unconscious  of 
ganger,  though  anxious,  amid  a  hail  of  bullets. 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

However,  towards  evening,  when  the  fire  had  grown  still 
hotter,  Pan  Pototski  approached  Pan  Volodiyovski. 

"Colonel,"  he  said,  "we  shall  not  hold  out." 

"We  shall  hold  out  so  long  as  they  confine  themselves  to 
firing,'7  answered  the  little  knight,  "but  they  will  hlow  us  out 
of  here  with  mines,  for  they  are  constructing  them." 

"Are  they  really  mining?"  asked  the  general  in  alarm. 

Volodiyovski  replied: 

"Seventy  guns  are  playing  and  their  roar  is  almost  con- 
tinuous, but  there  are  quiet  moments.  When  one  comes, 
lean  your  ear  intently,  and  listen." 

Just  then  it  was  not  necessary  to  wait  long,  more  especially 
as  an  accident  favored  them.  One  of  the  Turkish  siege-guns 
burst,  causing  considerable  confusion.  From  other  trenches 
inquiries  were  made  as  to  what  had  occurred,  and  so  the  bom- 
bardment temporarily  ceased. 

Pan  Michael  and  the  General  approached  the  edge  of  one  of 
the  abutments  of  the  castle  and  began  to  listen.  Presently 
they  clearly  discerned  the  sound  of  pickaxes  striking  the  stone 
of  the  wall. 

"They  are  mining,"  said  Pan  Pototski. 

"They  are  mining,"  repeated  the  little  knight. 

Then  they  were  silent.  The  General's  face  betrayed  great 
alarm;  he  lifted  his  hands  and  pressed  his  brow.  Seeing  that 
Volodiyovski  said: 

"That  is  the  usual  thing  in  every  siege.  At  Zbaraj  they 
were  digging  under  us  night  and  day." 

The  general  raised  Jiis  head. 

"What  did  Prince  Vishnyovyetski  do?" 

"We  retired  from  wide  ramparts  within  narrower  ones." 

"But  what  ought  we  to  do?" 

"We  ought  to  take  the  guns  and  everything  movable  with 
them  and  transfer  them  to  the  old  castle;  for  that  is  founded 
on  rock  that  the  Turks  cannot  mine.  I  always  thought  that 
the  new  castle  would  merely  serve  as  the  first  line  of  defence; 
after  that  we  must  blow  it  up  with  powder  and  the  real  de- 
fence will  commence  in  the  old  one." 

A  moment's  silence  followed,  and  the  General  again  bowed 
his  anxious  head. 

But  if  we  have  to  evacuate  the  old  castle,  where  shall  we 
go?"  he  asked  in  a  broken  voice. 

At  this  question  the  little  knight  straightened  himself  and 
pointed  his  finger  to  the  earth: 


478 


PAX   MICHAEL. 


"I  shall  go  there!" 

At  that  moment  the  guns  again  thundered  and  a  whole 
flock  of  grenades  began  to  fly  to  the  castle;  but  as  darkness 
shrouded  the  world  they  were  perfectly  visible.  Volodiyovski 
took  leave  of  the  general  and  went  round  the  walls.  Pro- 
ceeding from  one  battery  to  another  he  encouraged  the  men 
everywhere  and  gave  advice;  at  last  he  met  Ketling  and  said: 

"Well,  how  goes  it?" 

Ketling  smiled. 

"The  grenades  make  it  as  bright  as  day,"  he  said,  pressing 
the  little  knight's  hand.  "They  do  not  stint  us  with  fire." 

"One  of  their  good  guns  burst;  did  you  do  it?" 

"I  did." 

"I  am  dreadfully  sleepy." 

"So  am  I,  but  there  is  no  leisure  for  that." 

"Bah!"  exclaimed  Volodiyovski,  "and  the  little  wives  must 
be  frightened;  at  that  thought  sleep  takes  flight." 

"They  are  praying  for  us,"  said  Ketling,  raising  his  eyes 
towards  the  flying  grenades. 

"God  grant  health  to  mine  and  thine!"  cried  Pan  Michael. 

"There  are  no  women  among  all  upon  earth" — began  Ket- 
ling. 

But  he  did  now  conclude,  for  the  little  knight  at  that  mo- 
ment turned  towards  the  interior  of  the  castle  and  suddenly 
cried  loudly: 

"For  Heaven's  sake!    Save  us!    What  do  I  see?" 

And  he  sprang  forward.  Ketling  looked  round  in  aston- 
ishment. A  few  paces  distant  in  the  courtyard  of  the  castle 
he  saw  Basia,  Zagloba,  and  the  Jmudjian  Pientk. 

"To  the  wall!  to  the  wall!"  cried  the  little  knight,  dragging 
them  as  quickly  as  possible  under  cover  of  the  "battlements. 
"'For  Heaven's  sake!" 

"Ah!"  said  Zagloba  brokenly,  as  he  panted,  "persuade  such 
a  woman  yourself  if  you  can.  I  remonstrate  with  her  and 
say,  'You  will  destroy  both  yourself  and  me.'  1  kneel  down, — 
no  use.  Could  I  allow  her  to  go  alone?  Ugh!  No  use,  no 
use!  'I  will  go,  I  will  go,'  I  cried.  Take  her!" 

There  was  fear  in  Basia's  face  and  her  brow  was  puckered 
as  if  about  to  weep.  But  it  was  not  the  grenades  that  she 
dreaded,  nor  the  whizzing  of  the  balls,  nor  the  scattering 
stone,  but  her  husband's  anger.  So  she  clasped  her  hands  like 
a  child  in  fear  of  punishment  and  exclaimed  in  sobbing  tones: 

"I  could  not,  Michael  dear;  as  I  love  you  I  could  not. 


PAN   MICHAEL.  479 

Don't  be  angry,  Michael  clear!  I  cannot  stay  there  while  you 
are  perishing  here.  1  cannot,  I  cannot!1'  .  .  . 

Indeed  at  first  lie  was  angry  and  had  exclaimed,  "Bashka, 
you  have  no  fear  of  God!"  but  he  was  seized  with  a  sudden 
tenderness  and  his  voice  stuck  in  his  throat,  and  not  till  that 
beloved  shining  head  was  resting  on  his  breast  did  he  say: 

"You  are  my  faithful  friend  until  death." 

And  he  kissed  her  hands. 

But  Zagloba  went  up  to  the  wall  and  said  to  Ketling. 

"And  yours  wanted  to  come  too,  but  we  deceived  her,  tell- 
ing her  that  we  were  not  coming.  How  could  she  come  in 
euch  a  state?  ...  A  general  of  artillery  will  be  born  to  you. 
I'm  a  rascal  if  he  won't  be  a  general.  Well,  on  the  bridge  be- 
tween the  city  and  the  castle  the  grenades  are  falling  like 
peas.  I  thought  I  should  burst,  .  .  .  with  anger,  not  with 
fear.  ...  I  slipped  on  some  sharp  pieces  of  shell  and  cut 
myself.  I  shan't  be  able  to  sit  down  for  a  week  without  pain. 
The  nuns  will  have  to  anoint  me  without  minding  their  mod- 
esty. .  .  .  Phew!  but  those  rascals  are  firing.  May  the  thun- 
derbolts strike  them!  Pan  Pototski  wants  to  resign  the  com- 
mand to  me.  .  .  .  Give  the  soldiers  a  drink,  or  they  won't 
hold  out.  .  .  .  See  that  grenade!  As  God  lives,  it  will  fall 
somewhere  near  us!  Hide  yourself,  Basia!  By  God,  it  is 
near!" 

But  the  grenade  fell  far  away  instead  of  near,  for  it  fell 
on  the  Lutheran  church  of  the  old  castle.  Ammunition  had 
been  stored  there  as  the  dome  was  very  strong,  but  the  grenade 
broke  the  dome  and  exploded  the  powder.  The  foundations 
of  both  castles  were  shaken  by  an  explosion  louder  than  the 
thunder  of  guns.  Terrified  voices  were  heard  on  the  battle- 
ments. Both  the  Polish  and  Turkish  guns  were  silent. 

Ketling  left  Zagloba  and  Volodiyovski  left  Basia.  They 
both  sprang  to  the  walls  with  all  the  power  of  their  limbs. 
For  some  time  they  were  both  heard  giving  orders  with  pant- 
ing breasts;  but  their  voices  were  drowned  by  the  rattle  of 
drums  in  the  Turkish  trenches. 

"They  will  make  an  assault,"  whispered  Zagloba, 

In  fact  when  the  Turks  heard  the  explosion  they  appar- 
ently supposed  that  both  castles  were  destroyed  and  that  the 
defenders  were  half  buried  in  the  ruins  and  half  paralyzed 
with  fear.  Under  that  impression  they  prepared  to  storm  the 
place.  Fools!  They  did  not  know  that  only  the  Lutheran 
church  had  gone  up!  The  only  effect  produced  by  the  ex- 


4?o  .P- IV    MK'IIAVL. 

plosion  was  the  shock;  not  even  a  gun  had  been  dismounted 
in  the  new  castle.  But  the  roll  of  the  drums  grew  more  and 
more  hurried  in  the  trenches.  Janissaries  came  crowding  out 
of  the  trenches  and  advanced  towards  the  castle  at  the  double. 
It  is  true  that  no  lights  were  visible  in  the  castle  or  Turkish 
trenches,  but  it  was  a  clear  night  and  the  moonlight  revealed 
dense  masses  of  janissary  white  caps  rising  and  falling  in  the 
rush  like  waves  driven  by  the  wind.  Some  thousands  of  janis- 
saries and  several  hundred  volunteers  were  dashing  on  with 
fury  and  the  certain  hope  of  victory  in  their  hearts;  but  many 
of  them  would  never  again  see  the  minarets  of  Stambul,  the 
bright  waters  of  the  Bosphorus,  and  the  dark  cypresses  of  the 
cemeteries. 

Yolodiyovski  ran  along  the  walls  like  a  spirit. 

"Don't  fire!    Wait  for  the  word!"  he  cried  at  every  gun. 

The  dragoons  with  their  muskets  were  lying  flat  on  the  bat- 
tlements,, breathing  hard  with  determination.  There  was  si- 
lence, except  for  the  hurried  tread  of  the  janissaries,  sounding 
like  low  thunder.  The  nearer  they  came  the  more  sure  they 
felt  of  taking  the  castle  with  one  stroke.  Many  thought  that 
those  of  the  defenders  who  were  left  had  retired  into  the  city 
and  that  the  battlements  were  deserted.  When  they  reached 
the  fosse  they  began  to  fill  it  with  fascines  and  sacks  of  straw; 
and  filled  it  in  the  twinkle  ( f  an  eye.  On  the  walls  the  silence 
was  unbroken. 

But  when  the  front  ranks  stood  on  the  material  with  which 
they  had  filled  the  fosse,  the  report  of  a  pistol  was  heard  in 
one  of  the  embrasures  and  a  shrill  voice  shouted: 

"Fire!" 

Both  bastions  and  the  connecting  rampart  burst  at  the  same 
moment  into  one  long  stream  of  fire.  The  thunder  of  cannon, 
the  rattle  of  musketry,  and  the  shouts  of  the  storming-party 
were  all  mingled.  When  a  dart  cast  by  the  hand  of  a  strong 
hunter  plunges  half  its  length  into  the  belly  of  a  bear,  the 
beast  rolls  itself  up,  roars,  casts  itself  down,  squirms,  straight- 
ens out,  and  rolls  up  again,  and  the  crowd  of  janissaries  and 
irregulars  acted  just  in  that  manner.  Not  a  single  shot  of  the 
defenders  was  thrown  away.  Cannon,  charged  with  grape, 
laid  the  men  as  flat  as  a  pavement,  exactly  as  a  mighty  wind 
levels  standing  grain  at  one  blast.  Those  who  were  attacking 
the  connecting  rampart  between  the  bastions  found  them- 
selves under  three  fires,  and  they  became  a  panic-stricken 
mass  in  the  centre  and  fell  so  thickly  that  they  formed  a  quiv- 


/M.V    MK'H.iKL.  481 

cring  heap.  Ketling  rained  grape-shot  from  two  guns  on 
that  mass,  and  at  last  when  they  began  to  take  to  flight  he 
closed  the  narrow  exit  between  the  two  bastions  with  a  shower 
of  lead  and  iron. 

The  assault  was  repulsed  along  the  whole  line  and  the  janis- 
saries left  the  fosse  and  fled  like  madmen,  howling  with  terror. 
In  the  Turkish  trenches  they  began  to  throw  flaming  tar- 
buckets  and  torches,  turning  night  into  day,  so  as  to  make  a 
sortie  in  pursuit  difficult. 

Meanwhile,  Volodiyovski,  seeing  that  mass  hemmed  inl^e- 
tween  the  bastions,  shouted  for  his  dragoons  and  sallied  out. 
The  hapless  Turks  again  attempted  to  escape  through  the 
exit;  but  Ketling  raked  them  so  dreadfully  that  he  soon  ob- 
structed the  entrance  with  a  heap  of  bodies  as  high  as  a  wall. 
The  survivors  were  doomed,  for  the  besieged  would  not  take 
any  prisoners,  and  so  they  began  to  defend  themselves  in 
desperation.  Strong  men  collected  in  little  groups  of  two, 
three,  and  five,  and  supporting  each  other  back  to  back,  armed 
with  darts,  battle-axes,  yatagans,  and  sabres,  fought  madly. 
Their  terror,  despair,  and  the  certainty  of  death  were  changed 
into  a  feeling  of  fury.  They  were  seized  with  the  fever  of 
battle.  Some  in  their  rage  rushed  single-handed  on  the  dra- 
goons. These  fell  beneath  the  sabres  in  an  instant.  It  was 
a  struggle  between  two  opposing  furies,  for  the  dragoons,  from 
toil,  sleeplessness  and  hunger,  were  possessed  with  the  rage  of 
wild  animals  against  a  foe  to  whom  they  were  superior  in  skill 
in  the  use  of  cold  steel;  they  therefore  caused  dreadful  havoc. 

To  illuminate  more  fully  the  scene  of  strife,  Ketling  or- 
dered tar-buckets  to  be  lighted,  and  their  blaze  revealed  un- 
controllable Mazovians  fighting  with  janissaries  with  sabres 
and  grasping  them  by  the  hair  and  beard.  The  savage  Lusnia 
in  particular  raged  like  a  wild  bull.  At  the  other  end  Pan 
Volodiyovski  was  fighting  in  person,  and  knowing  that 
Bashka  was  watching  him  from  the  walls,  he  outdid  himself. 
As  a  savage  weasel  breaks  into  grain  where  a  swarm  of  mice 
have  taken  up  their  abode  and  does  fearful  execution  among 
them,  so  the  little  knight  rushed  like  a  spirit  of  destruction 
among  the  janissaries.  His  name  was  already  familiar  to  the 
besiegers,  both  from  previous  encounters  and  from  the  tales 
of  the  Turks  at  Khotsim.  The  impression  was  general  that 
no  man  could  meet  him  and  escape  death,  so  that  many  a 
janissary,  hemmed  in  between  the  bastions,  seeing  Pan 
Michael  suddenly  before  him,  did  not  even  defend  himself, 
31 


MICHAEL. 

• 

but  shut  his  eyes  and  fell  beneath  the  thrust  of  the  little 
knight's  s\vord  with  the  word  "kismet"  on  his  lips.  At  last 
the  resistance  grew  feeble  and  the  remaining  Turks  rushed  to 
the  rampart  of  bodies  that  blocked  the  entrance  and  were  cut 
to  pieces  there. 

The  dragoons  then  returned  across  the  filled  fosse  singing, 
yelling,  and  panting  and  reeking  with  blood;  the  castle  and 
Turkish  trenches  cannonaded  each  other  for  a  time  and  then 
were  silent.  Thus  ended  that  artillery  duel  that  had  lasted 
for  several  days,  concluding  with  the  assault  of  the  janissaries. 

"Praise  be  to  God!"  cried  the  little  knight,  "we  shall  have 
rest  till  the  morning  'kindya'  at  least,  and  in  truth  we  are 
entitled  to  it." 

But  it  was  only  an  apparent  rest,  for  later  in  the  night 
they  heard  through  the  stillness  the  sound  of  mattocks  stri- 
king the  stony  wall. 

"That  is  worse  than  artillery,"  said  Ketling  as  he  listened. 

"Now  would  be  the  time  to  make  a  sortie,"  said  the  little 
knight,  but  it  is  impossible,  as  the  men  are  worn  out.  They 
have  not  slept  nor  have  they  eaten;  for,  though  they  had  food, 
they  had  no  time  to  take  it.  Moreover  the  enemy  have  some 
thousands  guarding  the  sappers  to  prevent  opposition  from 
our  side.  There  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  blow  up  the  new  castle 
ourselves  and  retire  into  the  old  one." 

"Not  to-day,"  replied  Ketling.  "Look,  the  men  have  fallen 
like  sheaves  of  corn  and  are  in  a  stony  sleep.  The  dragoons 
have  not  even  wiped  their  sabres." 

"Bashka,  it  is  time  to  go  home  to  sleep,"  said  the  little 
knight. 

"Very  well  Michael,'"  answered  Basia  obediently,  "'I  will 
do  as  you  command.  But  the  convent  is  shut  up  now;  I  would 
rather  stay  and  watch  over  your  sleep." 

"I  think  it  very  strange,"  said  the  little  knight,  "that  sleep 
has  fled  from  me  after  such  labor,  and  I  have  not  the  least 
desire  to  rest  my  head." 

"Because  you  excited  your  blood  among  the  janissaries," 
said  Zagloba.  "It  was  always  so  with  me;  I  could  never  get 
any  sleep  after  a  battle.  But  as  for  Bashka,  why  should  she 
drag  herself  to  a  shut  gate?  Let  her  stay  here  till  the  morn- 
ing." 

Basia  embraced  Zagloba  in  her  delight,  and  the  little 
knight,  seeing  how  anxious  she  was  to  stay,  said: 

"Let  us  go  into  the  rooms." 


PAN   MICHAEL.  483 

They  went  in,  but  everything  was  thick  with  dust  raised 
by  the  concussion  of  the  cannon-balls  against  the  walls,  it 
was  impossible  to  stay  there,  so  they  went  out  again  and  set- 
tled down  in  a  niche  where  the  old  gate  had  been  walled  up. 

Pan  Michael  reclined  against  the  masonry  and  Basia  nestled 
up  to  him  like  a  child  against  its  mother.  It  was  a  warm  and 
sweet  August  night.  The  silver  light  of  the  moon  illuminated 
the  niqhe  and  bathed  their  faces  with  its  rays.  Below,  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  castle,  were  groups  of  sleeping  soldiers  and 
the  bodies  of  those  killed  during  the  bombardment,  as  there 
had  been  no  time  yet  to  bury  them.  The  tranquil  light  of  the 
moon  stole  over  those  heaps  as  if  that  solitary  of  the  sky 
wanted  to  find  out  who  was  merely  asleep  from  weariness  and 
who  had  fallen  into  eternal  sleep.  Farther  away  was  outlined 
the  wall  of  the  main  castle  \vhich  cast  a  black  shadow  half 
across  the  courtyard.  Beyond  the  walls,  human  voices  arose 
from  between  the  bastions  where  the  sabred  janissaries  lay. 
They  were  the  camp-followers  and  those  dragoons  who  pre- 
ferred spoil  to  sleep  and  were  stripping  the  corpses.  Their 
lanterns  gleamed  like  glow-worms  over  the  field  of  battle. 
Some  of  them  were  calling  to  one  another  and  one  was  softly 
singing  a  sweet  song,  strangely  at  variance  with  the  work  iji 
which  he  was  engaged  at  that  moment: 

"  Nothing  is  silver,  nothing  is  gold  to  me  now, 
Nothing  is  fortune. 

Then  let  me  starve  to  death  at  the  crooked  fence, 
If  only  beside  thee  !  " 

But  presently  the  movement  decreased  and  at  last  ceased 
entirely.  A  silence  followed  that  was  broken  only  by  the 
distant  noise  of  the  mattocks  striking  the  rocks  and  the  cries 
of  the  sentries  on  the  walls.  That  silence  and  moonlight  and 
quiet  night  soothed  Pan  Michael  and  Basia.  A  vague  longing 
stole  into  their  hearts  and  a  faint  pleasant  melancholy.  Bashka 
raised  her  eyes  to  her  husband's  face  and,  seeing  that  his  eyes 
were  open,  she  said: 

"Michael  dear,  you  are  not  asleep  ?" 

"It  is  strange:  I  don't  want  to  sleep." 

"Is  it  pleasant  for  you  here?" 

"Quite  pleasant.    And  you?" 

Basia  nodded  her  bright  head.  "Ah,  Michael  dear,  so 
pleasant!  Ah,  ah,  ah!  Didn't  you  hear  what  that  man  was 
singing?  Then  she  repeated  the  last  words  of  the  little  song: 

"  Then  let  me  starve  to  death  at  the  crooked  fendl, 
If  only  beside  thee.  *.  v  '  " 


484  PAN   MICHAEL. 

A  moment's  silence  followed  which  was  interrupted  by  the 
little  knight: 

"Listen  to  me,  Bashka." 

"What,  Michael  dear?" 

"To  tell  the  truth  we  are  marvellously  happy  in  each  other 
and  I  think  that  if  one  of  us  were  to  fall  the  grief  of  the 
other  would  be  boundless." 

Basia  quite  understood  that  when  the  little  knight  said  "if 
one  of  us  were  to  fall,"  instead  of  die,  he  was  only  thinking 
of  himself.  It  occurred  to  her  that  perhaps  he  did  not  ex- 
pect to  survive  that  siege  and  wanted  to  accustom  her  mind 
to  such  an  end,  so  her  heart  was  seized  with  a  terrible  pre- 
sentiment and  she  clasped  her  hands  and  said: 

"Michael  dear,  have  pity  on  yourself  and  me!" 

In  somewhat  moved  though  quiet  tones  the  little  knight 
replied: 

"But  look,  Bashka,  you  are  wrong;  for  if  you  only  think 
about  it,  what  is  this  temporal  existence?  Why  should  we 
wrench  our  feelings  about  it?  Who  would  be  satisfied  to 
possess  love  and  happiness  here  when  everything  snaps  like 
a  dry  twig, — who?" 

But  Basia  was  shaken  with  weeping,  and  kept  repeating: 

"I  will  not!   I  will  not!   I  will  not!" 

"As  I  love  God,  you  are  wrong,"  the  little  knight  repeated. 
"Look,  think  of  it!  above  there,  beyond  that  quiet  moon  is  a 
realm  of  everlasting  bliss.  Talk  to  me  of  that,  Whosoever 
reaches  those  fields  will  take  breath  for  the  first  time  as  after 
a  long  journey  and  feed  in  peace.  When  my  time  comes — and 
that  is  the  business  of  a  soldier — you  ought  simply  to  say: 
'That's  nothing!  Michael's  gone.  True,  he  has  gone  far 
away,  farther  than  Lithuania;  but  that's  nothing,  because  I 
shall  follow  him/  Bashka  control  yourself;  do  not  weep.  The 
first  to  go  will  prepare  quarters  for  the  other;  that's  all/" 

Here  he  seemed  to  obtain  a  vision  of  approaching  event-; 
for  he  raised  his  eyes  to  the  moon  and  continued: 

"What  is  this  mortal  life?  Grant  that  I  may  be  there  first, 
waiting  for  some  one  to  knock  at  the  Gate  of  Heaven.  St. 
Peter  opens  it!  I  look;  who  is  it?  My  Bashka!  Save  us!  Oh, 
I  shall  leap  then!  Oh,  T  shall  cry  then!  Dear  God,  words 
fail  me.  And  there  will  be  no  tears;  nothing  but  endless  joy; 
and  there  will  be  no  Infidels,  nor  cannon,  nor  mines  under 
walls,  but  only  peace  and  happiness.  Ah.  Baslska,  remember, 
this  life  is  nothing!" 


PAN  MICHAEL.  485 

"Dear  Michael,  dear  Michael!"  repeated  Basia. 

And  again  silence  fell,  interrupted  only  by  the  distant 
monotonous  sound  of  the  mattocks. 

"Bashka,  let  us  say  a  Pater  together,"  Volodiyovski  said 
at  last 

And  those  two  souls,  pure  as  their  tears,  began  to  pray.  As 
they  repeated  their  Paters  peace  fell  upon  them  both,  and 
then  sleep  mastered  them  and  they  slumbered  till  the  first- 
break  of  day. 

Pan  Volodiyovski  led  Basia  away  before  the  morning 
"kindya"  to  the  bridge  connecting  the  city  with  the  old  cattle, 
At  parting  he  said: 

"Remember,  Bashka;  it's  nothing  I" 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Immediately  after  the  "kindya"  the  thunder  of  cannoB 
ehook  the  castles  and  city.  The  Turks  had  dug  a  fosse  be- 
side the  castle  five  hundred  ells  long.  In  one  place  they 
were  digging  deep  at  the  wall  Itself.  From  their  trench  the 
janissary  muskets  fired  constantly  at  the  walls.  The  be- 
sieged made  ramparts  of  leather  bags  stuffed  with  wool,  but, 
as  missiles  and  grenades  were  continually  cast  from  the 
trenches,  the  bodies  fell  thickly  around  the  guns.  At  one 
gun,  six  of  Volodiyovski's  infantry  were  killed  with  one  gren- 
ade, and  other  gunners  were  constantly  falling.  Before  even- 
ing the  chiefs  saw  that  they  could  not  hold  out  any  longer, 
especially  as  the  mines  might  be  exploded  at  any  moment. 
Therefore,  during  the  night,  the  captains  led  out  their  men, 
and  before  the  morning,  in  the  midst  of  ceaseless  firing,  they 
had  transferred  all  the  guns,  powder,  and  provisions  to  the 
old  castle.  They  could  hold  out  longer  there,  as  it  was  built 
on  a  rock,  and  it  was  particularly  difficult  to  undermine  it. 
When  Pan  Michael  was  consulted  about  the  matter  at  the 
council  of  war  he  stated  that  he  was  ready  to  defend  it  for 
a  year  if  no  one  would  enter  into  negotiations.  His  words 
spread  to  the  city,  and  greatly  relieved  all  hearts,  for  the 
people  knew  that  the  little  knight  would  keep  his  word,  even 
at  the  cost  of  his  own  life. 

When  the  new  castle  was  evacuated  powerful  'mines  were 
placed  along  the  front  and  both  bastions.  These  exploded 
about  noon  with  a  tremendous  noise,  but  caused  no  serious 
loss  to  the  Turks,  for,  remembering  yesterday's  lesson,  they 
had  not  yet  ventured  to  occupy  the  abandoned  place.  But 
both  bastions  and  the  front  and  main  body  of  the  new  castle 
formed  one  enormous  mass  of  ruins.  It  is  true  that  these 
ruins  made  it  difficult  to  approach  the  old  castle,  but  they 
afforded  perfect  cover  to  sharpshooters,  and  what  is  worse, 
to  the  miners,  who,  not  at  all  daunted  at  the  sight  of  the 
mighty  cliff,  began  to  bore  a  fresh  mine.  This  work  was 
supervised  by  skillful  Italian  and  Hungarian  engineers  in 
(486) 


PAN  MICHAEL.  4Sy 

the.  service  of  the  Sultan,  and  it  made  rapid  headway.  The 
bpyiogod  could  not  hit  the  enemy  with  either  cannon  <»r 
musket,  as  they  were  invisible.  Pan  Michael  was  thinking  of 
a  sortie,  but  could  not  immediately  undertake  it  as  his  sol- 
diers were  too  weary.  Blue  lumps  as  large  as  loaves  of  bread 
had  formed  on  the  dragoons'  right  shoulders  from  the  con- 
stant lecoil  of  the  butts  of  their  guns.  Some  could  scarcely 
move  their  arms.  It  was  plain  that,  if  the  boring  should 
continue  for  any  length  of  time  without  check,  the  main 
gate  of  the  castle  would  be  blown  into  the  air  without  fail. 
Foreseeing  this,  Pan  Volodiyovski  gave  orders  to  have  a  high 
wall  built  inside  the  gate,  and  said  without  losing  courage: 

"What  do  I  care?  if  the  gate  is  blown  up,  we  will  defend 
ourselves  behind  the  wall;  if  the  wall  is  blown  up,  we  will 
have  a  second  one  made  beforehand,  and  so  on,  as  long  as 
we  have  an  ell  of  ground  under  our  feet." 

"But  when  the  ell  is  gone?" 

"Then  we  shall  be  gone  too,"  answered  the  little  knight. 

In  the  meantime,  he  ordered  hand-grenades  to  be  thrown 
at  the  enemy,  which  caused  considerable  damage.  The  most 
effective  man  at  this  work  was  Lieutenant  Dembinski,  who 
killed  innumerable  Turks  until  a  grenade,  which  he  had 
ignited  too  soon,  burst  in  his  hand  and  tore  it  off.  Captain 
Shmit  perished  in  the  same  way.  Many  fell  by  the  artillery, 
and  many  by  musket-shots  from  the  janissaries  concealed 
in  the  ruins  of  the  new  castle.  During  this  time  they  rarely 
fired  the  castle  guns,  and  this  considerably  disturbed  the 
council.  "They  are  not  firing,  so  it  is  evident  that  Volodi- 
yovski himself  has  doubts  about  the  defence."  This  was  the 
general  opinion;  none  of  the  military  dared  to  be  the  first 
to  say  that  the  only  thing  left  was  to  obtain  the  best  con- 
ditions, but  the  Bishop,  who  had  no  knightly  ambition,  said 
so  openly;  but  first,  Pan  Vasilokovski  was  sent  to  the  General 
for  news  from  the  castle.  He  answered:  "It  is  my  opinion 
that  the  castle  cannot  hold  out  till  evening,  but  here  they 
think  otherwise." 

On  reading  this  reply,  even  the  officers  began  to  say: 

"We  have  done  what  we  could,  no  one  has  spared  himself, 
but  what  is  impossible,  is  impossible.  We  must  think  of  con- 
ditions." 

These  words  reached  the  city  and  a  great  multitude  of 
people  assembled  in  consequence.  They  thronged  in  front 
of  the  town  hall,  alarmed,  silent,  and  hostile,  rather  than 


488  PAX  MICHAEL. 

inclined  to  negotiate.  Some  rich  Armenian  merchants  were 
secretly  glad  that  the  siege  would  come  to  an  end  and  trade 
begin  again,  but  other  Armenians  who  had  long  been  settled 
in  the  Commonwealth  were  very  favorable  towards  it;  in  ad- 
dition to  them,  the  Poles  and  Russians  wanted  to  defend 
themselves.  "If  we  wanted  to  surrender,  we  ought  to  have 
done  so  at  first/'  it  was  whispered  here  and  there;  we  couldn't 
have  obtained  much,  but  now  there  will  be  no  favorable  con- 
ditions and  it  would  be  better  to  bury  ourselves  beneath  the 
ruins." 

The  murmurs  of  discontent  grew  louder  and  louder,  till 
suddenly  they  changed  into  enthusiastic  shouts  and  cheers. 

What  had  happened?  On  the  square  Pan  Volodiyovski 
had  appeared  with  Pan  Humyetski;  as  the  general  had  sent 
them  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  report  of  what  had  hap- 
pened in  the  castle.  The  crowd  was  seized  with  enlmsiasm. 
Some  shouted  as  though  the  Turks  had  already  burst  into 
the  town,  while  tears  came  into  the  eyes  of  others  at  the 
sight  of  that  idolized  knight,  whose  appearance  showed  his 
great  exertions.  His  face  was  black  with  the  smoke  of  the 
powder,  and  haggard;  his  eyes  were  red  and  sunken,  but  he 
had  a  joyous  expression.  When  he  and  Humyetski  had  made 
their  way  through  the  crowd  and  entered  the  council,  they 
also  received  a  joyful  greeting  there.  The  Bishop  spoke  at 
once. 

"Beloved  brothers,  he  said,  "Nee  Hercules  contra  plurcs, 
the  general  has  already  written  that  you  must  surrender/' 

At  this,  Humyetski,  who  was  very  impulsive  and  of  noble 
family,  and  didn't  care  for  anyone,  cried  sharply: 

"The  general  has  lost  his  head,  but  at  least  he  has  this 
virtue,  that  he  exposes  it  to  danger.  As  for  the  defence,  I 
leave  that  for  Pan  Volodiyovski  to  describe,  as  he  is  better 
able." 

The  eyes  of  all  were  turned  on  the  little  knight,  who 
twisted  his  yellow  moustache  and  said: 

"For  Heaven's  sake!  who  talks  about  surrendering?  have 
we  not  sworn  to  the  living  God,  to  fall  one  above  the  other?" 

"We  have  sworn  to  do  all  that  is  in  our  power,  and  we 
have  done  that/'  replied  the  Bishop. 

"Let  every  man  answer  for  what  he  has  promised.  Ivet- 
ling  and  I  have  vowed  not  to  surrender  the  castle  until 
death,  and  we  will  not  surrender,  for  if  I  am  bound  to  keep 
the  word  of  a  knight  to  every  man,  what  must  I  do  t<r  God, 
who  is  above  all  in  majesty?" 


1>AX   ^IC HA  EL. 

"But  how  is  it  with  the  castle?  We  'have  heard  that  there 
is  a  mine  under  the  gate,  can  you  hold  out  long?"  cried  many 
voices? 

"There  is,  or  will  be  a  mine  under  the  gate,  but  behind 
the  gate  there  is  a  good  wall,  and  I  have  ordered  falconets 
to  be  mounted  on  it.  Dear  brothers,  fear  the  wounds  of  God; 
remember  that  by  surrendering  you  will  be  forced  to  give  up 
churches  into  the  hands  of  Infidels,  who  will  convert  them 
into  mosques  to  celebrate  bawdy  discourses  in  them.  How 
can  you  mention  surrender  with  such  a  light  heart?  With 
what  conscience  can  you  think  of  opening  a  gate  into  the 
heart  of  the  country  to  the  foe?  I  am  in  the  castle,  and  have 
no  fear  of  mines,  ^and  you,  far  away  here  in  the  city,  are 
afraid.  By  the  dear  Lord,  we  will  not  surrender  while  we 
live.  Let  the  memory  of  this  defence  remain  with  those  who 
come  after  us,  like  the  memory  of  Zbaraj." 

"The  Turks  will  reduce  the  castle  to  a  heap  of  ruins,"  cried 
a  voice. 

"Let  them,  we  can  defend  ourselves  from  a  heap  of  ruins." 

Here  the  little  knight  somewhat  lost  patience. 

"And  I  will  defend  myself  from  a  heap  of  ruins,  so  help 
me  God.  Finally,  I  tell  you,  that  I  will  not  surrender  the 
castle.  Do  you  hear?" 

"But  will  you  destroy  the  town?"  asked  the  Bishop 

"If  opposing  the  Turks  will  destroy  it,  I  would  rather 
destroy  it.  I  have  taken  my  oath,  I  will  not  waste  any  more 
words,  I  will  return  to  the  guns  for  they  defend  the  Com- 
monwealth instead  of  betraying  it." 

Then  he  departed,  followed  by  Humyetski  who  slammed 
the  door.  They  both  hurried  away,  for  they  really  felt  hap- 
pier amid  ruins,  corpses,  and  shot,  than  among  men  of  weak 
faith.  Pan  Makovyetska  overtook  them  on  the  way  and  said: 

"Michael,  tell  the  truth,  did  you  talk  of  resistance  only 
to  strengthen  their  courage,  or  will  you  really  be  able  to  hold 
out  in  the  castle?" 

The  little  knight  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"As  God  is  dear  to  me,  if  only  the  city  will  not  surrender 
I  will  defend  the  castle  for  a  year." 

"Why  don't  you  fire  the  guns,  that's  why  people  are  alarmed 
and  talk  about  surrendering?" 

"We  don't  fire  them  because  we  are  busy  with  the  hand- 
grenades,  which  have  done  considerable  injury  to  the  mines." 

"Listen,  Michael,  have  you  sufficient  force  in  the  castle  to 


490  MICHAEL. 

support  the  Russian  gate  from  the  rear?  for  if  the  Turks 
break  in,  which  God  prevent,,  they  will  reach  the  gate.  I  am 
keeping  watch  with  my  whole  force,  but  with  only  the  towns- 
people and  without  soldiers  I  don't  know  what  to  do/' 

"Then  the  little  knight  answered:  "Do  not  fear,  dear 
brother,  I  have  fifteen  guns  trained  on  it.  Make  your  mind 
easy  also  about  the  castle.  Not  only  will  we  defend  our- 
selves, but  we  will  reinforce  you  at  the  gates  when  it  is  ne- 
cessary." 

When  he  heard  that,  Makovyetska  was  greatly  delighted, 
and  wanted  to  depart,  but  the  little  knight  detained  him, 
and  inquired  further: 

"Tell  me,  you  are  oftener  at  the  council,  do  they  only 
want  to  try  us,  or  do  they  really  intend  delivering  Kamenets 
into  the  hands  of  the  Sultan?" 

Makovyetska  bowed  his  head. 

"Michael,"  he  said,  "tell  the  truth  now,  must  it  not  end 
in  that?  We  shall  resist  for  a  time  yet,  one  week,  two,  a 
month,  two  months;  but  it  will  be  the  same  in  the  end/? 

Volodiyovski  looked  gloomily  at  him,  then  he  raised  his 
hands  and  cried, 

"And  than  too,  Brutus,  against  me!  Well,  in  that  case, 
you  will  have  to  enjoy  your  shame  alone.  To  such  diet  1  am 
not  accustomed." 

And  they  parted  with  bitterness  in  their  hearts. 

The  mine  under  the  chief  gate  of  the  old  castle  exploded 
soon  after  Pan  Volodiyovski's  return.  Bricks  and  stones 
were  scattered  abroad  and  dust  and  smoke  arose.  The  gun- 
ners' hearts  were  overcome  with  terror.  For  some  time  the 
Turks  rushed  into  the  breach  as  sheep  rush  through  the 
open  gate  of  a  sheepfold,  when  the  shepherd  and  his  assist- 
ants drive  them  in  with  whips.  But  Ketling  breathed  on 
the  mass  with  the  charges  of  six  guns  previously  prepared 
on  the  wall;  he  breathed  once,  twice,  thrice  and  swept  them 
out  of  the  court.  Volodiyovski,  Humyetski,  and  Myslishev- 
ski,  hurried  up  with  infantry  and  dragoons  and  covered  the 
walls  as  rapidly  as  flies  on  a  sultry  day  cover  the  carcass  of 
a  horse  or  ox.  Then  a  duel  began  between  the  muskets  and 
janissary  guns.  Balls  fell  on  the  wall  like  rain,  or  like  the 
grains  of  wheat  cast  from  the  shovel  of  a  sturdy  peasant. 
The  Turks  were  swarming  among  the  ruins  of  the  new  castle, 
they  sat  in  twos,  threes,  fives,  and  tens,  in  every  hollow,  be- 
hind every  fragment,  behind  every  stone,  and  in  every  gap 


PAN    MICHAEL.  49  r 

in  the  ruins,  and  fired  without  a  moment's  pause.  Fresh 
reinforcements  constantly  arrived  from  the  direction  of 
Khotsim.  Regiment  followed  regiment,  crouched  among  the 
ruins,  and  immediately  began  to  fire.  The  new  castle  seemed 
to  be  paved  with  turbans.  From  time  to  time,  these  masses 
of  turbans  suddenly*  sprang  up  with  frightful  yells  and  sprang 
to  the  breach;  and  then  Ketling's  voice  was  raised  and  the 
bass  of  the  cannon  drowned  the  rattle  of  musketry  and  a 
storm  of  grape-shot  with  a  whistling  and  dreadful  rattling 
threw  the  mass  into  confusion,  laid  them  out"  on  the  earth, 
and  choked  the  breach  with  a  quivering  heap  of  human  flesh. 
Four  times  the  janissaries  sprang  to  the  assault  and  four 
times  Ketling  hurled  them  back,  and  scattered  them  as  a 
storm  scatters  a  cloud  of  leaves.  Alone,  amidst  the  fire, 
smoke,  showers  of  earth,  and  exploding  grenades,  he  seemed 
and  angel  of  war.  His  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  breach  and  not 
the  slightest  anxiety  was  visible  on  his  calm  brow.  Now  and 
then  he  would  seize  the  lintstock  from  the  gunner  and  touch 
the  priming.  Sometimes  he  would  cover  his  eyes  with  his 
hand  to  watch  the  effect  of  the  shot;  sometimes  he  would 
turn  with  a  smile  to  the  Polish  officers  and  say: 

"They  cannot  enter." 

Never  was  the  rage  of  assault  repulsed  with  such  fur}r  of 
resistance.  The  officers  and  men  emulated  each  other.  It 
seemed  that  these  men's  attention  was  directed  to  every- 
thing but  death,  and  death  mowed  them  down  quickly.  Pan 
Humyetski  fell  and  so  did  Pan  Mokoshytski,  the  commander 
of  the  men  of  Kiev.  At  length  the  white-haired  Pan  Kal- 
ushovski  put  his  hand  to  his  breast  with  a  groan;  he  was 
an  old  friend  of  Pan  Michael's,  as  'gentle  as  a  lamb,  but"  as 
terrible  a  soldier  as  a  lion.  Pan  Michael  caught  the  falling 
man  who  crieo1,  "Give  me  your  hand,  give  me  your  hand 
quickly;''  then  he  added,  "Praise  be  to  God!"  and  his  face 
grew  as  white  as  his  beard  a-nd  moustache.  That  was  before 
the  fourth  attack.  A  body  of  janissaries  had  entered  the 
breach,  or  rather  they  could  not  leave  it,  because  of  the  too 
dense  cloud  of  missiles.  Pan  Michael  sprang  upon  them  at 
the  head  of  his  infantry,  and  they  were  struck  down  in  a 
moment  with  the  stocks  of  the  muskets. 

Hour  followed  hour,  and  the  fire  did  not  slacken;  but  in 
the  meantime,  tidings  of  the  heroic  defence  spread  through 
the  town,  exciting  emlnisia-'m  and  martial  ardor.  The  Polish 
inhabitants,  particularly  the  young  men,  began  to  call  on 


492  PAN   MICHAEL. 

one  another,  and  gaze  at  one  another,  and  mutually  encourage 
each  other.  "Let  us  carry  aid  to  the  castle,  let  us  go,  let  us 
go.  We  will  not  allow  our  brothers  to  perish.  Come  boys!" 
This  kind  of  exclamation  was  heard  on  the  square  and  at 
the  gates,  and  soon  a  few  hundred  men,  variously  armed,  but 
with  courage  in  their  hearts,  advanced  towards  the  bridge. 
The  Turks  directed  a  terrible  fire  on  the  young  men,  and 
stretched  many  of  them  in  death,  but  some  of  them  crossed 
and  began  to  work  on  the  walls  with  great  zeal  against  the 
Turks. 

The  fourth  attack  of  the  Turks  was  repulsed  with  terrible 
loss  and  it  seemed  that  a  moment  of  rest  must  come.  Vain 
hope!  The  rattle  of  the  janissary  musketry  was  kept  up  till 
evening.  Not  till  the  evening  kindya  was  played  did  the 
guns  become  silent  and  the  Turks  leave  the  ruins  of  the 
new  castle.  The  surviving  officers  then  went  outside  the 
wall.  The  little  knight,  without  a  moment's  pause,  ordered 
the  breach  to  be  filled  up  with  whatever  materials  could  be 
found,  such  as  blocks  of  timber,  fascines,  earth,  and  rub- 
bish. Infantry,  retinue,  dragoons,  rank  and  file,  all  vied 
with  each  other,  regardless  of  rank.  The  Turkish  guns  were 
expected  to  begin  firing  again  at  any  moment,  but  that  was 
a  day  of  great  triumph  for  the  besieged  over  the  besiegers. 
All  their  faces  were  aglow  and  their  hearts  flamed  with  hope 
and  the  desire  for  further  victory. 

Ketling  and  Pan  Michael,  grasping  one  another's  hand 
after  their  toil,  went  the  round  of  the  square  and  the  walls, 
leaned  out  through  the  embrasures  to  look  at  the  court-yard 
of  the  new  castle,  and  rejoiced  at  the  bountiful  harvest. 

'"Corpses  lie  there  beside  corpses,"  said  the  little  knight 
pointing  to  the  ruins,  "and  there  are  such  heaps  at  the  breach 
that  you  would  require  a  ladder  to  cross  them.  Ketling, 
that  is  the  work  of  your  cannon." 

"The  best  thing  is,"  answered  Ketling,  "that  we  have  re- 
paired the  breach.  The  approach  is  closed  to  the  Turks  and 
they  must  make  a  new  mine;  their  force  is  as  boundless  as 
the  sea,  but  a  siege  of  this  kind  for  a  month  or  two  must 
disgust  them  in  time." 

"By  that  time  the  Hetman  will  aid  us.  But  come  what 
may,  you  and  I  are  bound  by  our  oaths,"  said  the  little 
knight. 

At  that  moment,  they  gazed  into  one  another's  eyes  and 
Pan  Michael  asked  in  lower  tones: 


PAN  MICHAEL.  493 

"Have  you  done  what  I  told  you?" 

"All  is  ready/'  replied  Ketling  in  -a  whisper,  "but  I  do  not 
think  it  will  come  to  that,  for  we  may  hold  out  here  for  a 
lo-ng  time  and  have  many  such  days  as  this. 

"God  grant  us  such  a  morrow." 

"Amen!"  added  Ketling  as  he  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven. 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  thunder  of 
cannon.  Bombs  began  'again  to  fly  against  the  castle.  How- 
ever, many  of  them  burst  in  the  air  and  died  away  like  sum- 
mer lightning. 

Ketling  watched  them  with  the  eye  of  an  expert  and  said: 
"In  that  trench  yonder,  from  which  they  are  firing,  the 
fuses  of  the  grenades  have  too  much  sulphur." 

"Other  trenches  are  beginning  to  smoke,"  said  Volodi- 
yovski. 

In  fact  they  were.  As,  when  one  dog  barks  in  the  middle 
of  a  quiet  night,  others  begin  to  accompany  it,  till  at  last, 
the  entire  village  is  filled  with  the  noise,  so  one  cannon  in 
the  Turkish  trenches  aroused  all  the  neighboring  ones,  and 
the  besieged  place  was  surrounded  with  a  crown  of  grenades. 
Now,  however,  the  enemy  was  firing  at  the  city,  not  at  the 
castle.  But  mining  was  heard  going  on  on  three  sides. 
Though  the  mighty  rock  had  almost  rendered  the  efforts  of 
the  miners  of  no  avail,  it  was  clear  that  the  Turks  had  de- 
termined at  all  costs  to  blow  that  rocky  nest  into  the  air. 

By  the  orders  of  Ketling  and  Pan  Volodiyovski,  the  de- 
fenders again  began  to  throw  hand-grenades,  guided  by  the 
sound  of  the  mattocks.  But  at  night  it  was  impossible  to 
see  whether  this  means  of  defence  effected  any  damage. 
The  eyes  and  attention  of  all  were  directed  to  the  city,  against 
which  whole  showers  of  flaming  grenades  were  flying.  Some 
of  them  burst  in  the  air,  but  others  described  a  fiery  arc  in 
the  sky,  and  fell  on  the  roofs  of  houses.  Immediately  a  blood- 
red  glare  pierced  the  darkness  in  several  places.  The  church 
of  St.  Catherine  was  burning,  as  well  as  the  church  of  St. 
George  in  the  Russian  quarter,  and  soon  the  Armenian 
cathedral  was  in  flames.  But  the  latter  had  already  been 
set  on  fire  during  the  day,  and  now  it  merely  caught  fire 
again  from  the  grenades.  The  conflagration  momentarily 
increased  and  illumined  the  whole  neighborhood.  The  din 
from  the  city  penetrated  to  the  old  castle.  It  might  bave 
been  imagined  that  the  whole  city  was  in  flames. 

"That's  bad,"  cried  Ketling,  "for  it  will  weaken  the  cour- 
age of  the  inhabitants." 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

"Let  everything  burn,  said  the  little  knight,  "so  that  only 
the  rock  is  not  destroyed,  from  which  we  may  defend  our- 
selves." 

Now  the  noise  increased.  The  fire  extended  from  the 
cathedral  to  the  Armenian  warehouses  of  costly  merchandise. 
The  latter  were  built  on  the  square  belonging  to  that  people; 
great  wealth  was  being  consumed  there  in  gold,  silver,  divans, 
furs,  and  sumptuous  fabrics.  Presently,  tongues  of  fire  ap- 
peared above  the  houses  here  and  there. 

Volodiyovski  was  greatly  disturbed. 

"Ketling,"  he  said,  "see  to  the  throwing  of  the  grenades 
and  do  as  much  damage  as  possible  to  the  mining.  I  will 
hasten  to  the  town  for  my  heart  is  grieved  for  the  Dominican 
nuns.  Praise  be  to  God  that  the  Turks  are  leaving  the  castle 
in  peace,  so  that  I  can  be  absent." 

In  fact,  just  then  there  was  not  much  to  do  in  the  castle, 
so  the  little  knight  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away.  Not 
till  two  hours  later  did  he  return,  accompanied  by  Pan  Mus- 
halski,  who  recovered  from  the  hurt  received  at  the  hand  of 
Hamdi-Bey  and  now  came  to  the  castle  with  the  thought 
that,  during  the  assaults,  with  his  bow  he  might  inflict  great 
loss  on  the  Infidels  and  gain  boundless  glory. 

'Welcome,"  said  Ketling,  "I  was  alarmed.  How  is  it  with 
the  nuns?" 

"All  is  well,"  replied  the  little  knight,  "not  a  single  shell 
has  burst  there.  The  place  is  very  quiet  and  safe." 

"Thank  God  for  that  !     But  Krysia  is  not  alarmed?" 

"She  is  as  quiet  as  if  in  her  own  home.  She  and  Bashka 
are  in  the  same  cell,  and  Pan  Zagloba  is  with  them.  Pan 
Novovyeyski,  who  has  recovered  consciousness,  is  also  there. 
He  begged  to  come  to  the  castle  with  me,  but  he  cannot  yet 
stand  on  his  feet  for  long.  Go  there  now,  Ketling,  while  I 
take  your  place  here/" 

Ketling  embraced  Pan  Michael,  as  his  heart  drew  him 
strongly  to  Krysia;  and  he  ordered  his  horse  to  be  brought  at 
once.  But  before  it  came,  he  asked  the  little  knight  what 
tidings  he  had  from  the  city. 

"The  inhabitants  are  extinguishing  the  flames  with  great 
bravery."  the  little  knight  answered,  "but  when  the  more 
wealthy  Armenian  merchants  saw  their  merchandise  burning 
they  sent  deputations  to  the  Bishop  insisting  on  a  surrender. 
When  I  heard  that,  I  went  to  the  council,  though  I  had  prom- 
ised myself  not  to  go  there  again.  I  struck  that  man's  face 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

who  insisted  most  strongly  on  surrendering,  and  therefore, 
the  Bishop  rose  against  me  in  wrath.  The  situation  is  evil, 
brother,  people  are  becoming  more  and  more  cowardly,  and 
our  readiness  for  the  defence  seems  to  them  of  little  import. 
They  blarue  but  do  not  praise,  saying  that  we  are  vainly  ex- 
posing the  place.  I  also  h.eard  that  Makovyetska  was  at- 
tacked because  he  opposed  negotiations.  The  Bishop  himself 
said  to  him,  'We  are  deserting  neither  our  faith  nor  our  king, 
but  what  is  the  good  of  further  resistance?  See!'  he  said, 
'what  will  result  from  it — shrines  desecrated,  honorable  ladies 
insulted,  and  innocent  children  dragged  into  captivity.  With 
a  treaty/  he  said,  'we  can  assure  their  fate  and  gaia  a  free 
evacuation/  Thus  spoke  the  Bishop,  but  the  general  nodded 
and  said.  'I  would  sooner  perish,  but  that  is  true!"1 

"God's  will  be  done!"  said  Ketling. 

But  Pan  Michael  wrung  his  hands. 

"Even  if  that  were  true,"  he  cried,  "but  God  is  witness 
that  we  can  still  defend  ourselves." 

Meanwhile  the  horse  was  brought;  Ketling  mounted  hur- 
riedly. 

"Cross  the  bridge  warily,"  said  Pan  Michael  on  the  way, 
"for  the  grenades  are  falling  thickly  there." 

"I  shall  be  back  in  an  hour,"  said  Ketling,  as  he  rode 
away. 

Volodiyovski  started  to  make  the  round  of  the  walls  with 
Mushalski. 

In  three  places  where  the  hammering  was  heard  hand 
grenades  were  thrown.  Lusnia  was  directing  this  work  to 
the  left  of  the  castle. 

"Well,  how  goes  it  there?'  asked  Volodiyovski. 

"Badly,  Pan  Commandant!"  replied  the  seargant.  "The 
dog-bloods  are  sitting  in  the  cliff  and  only  occasionally  at 
the  entrance  is  a  man  hurt  by  a  fragment  of  shell.  We 
haven't  done  much.  .  .  ." 

Elsewhere  the  case  was  even  worse,  especially  as  the  sky 
had  darkened  and  rain  was  falling,  which  damped  the  fuses 
of  the  grenades.  The  work  was  also  impeded  by  the  dark- 
ness. 

Pan  Michael  drew  Mushalki  a  little  aside  and  suddenly 
halted  and  said, 

"Listen,  suppose  we  try  to  suffocate  these  moles  in  their 
burrows!" 

"To  me  it  looks  like  certain  death  for  they  are  guarded 
by  whole  regiments  of  janissaries.  But  let  us  try!" 


PAN  MICHAJEL. 

"It  is  true  that  they  are  guarded  by  regiments;  but  it  is 
a  very  dark  night,  and  they  are  quickly  cast  into  confusion. 
Just  think!  they  are  talking  of  surrendering  the  town. 
Yv7hy?  Because  they  tell  us,  'There  are  mines  under  you;  you 
are  not  defending  yourselves/  We  should  silence  them,  if 
to-night  we  could  send  the  tidings,  "The  mine  no  longer 
exists!'  Is  it  worth  while  laying  down  one's  head  in  such  a 
cause,  or  not?" 

Pan  Mushalski  reflected  for  a  moment  and  cried: 

"It  is  worth  while!     It  is,  as  God  lives!" 

"A  little  while  ago  they  began  to  mine  in  that  spot,"  said 
Pan  Yolodiyovski;  "those  we  will  leave  unmolested,  but 
here  and  on  this  side  they  have  bored  deep  into  the  rock.  You 
take  fifty  dragoons  and  I  will  take  the  same  number  and  we 
will  try  to  suffocate  them.  Are  you  willing?" 

"I  am, — more  so  every  moment.  I  will  take  some  spikes 
in  my  belt  for  the  cannon;  perhaps  I  niay  be  able  to  spike 
some  of  those  falconets  on  the  way." 

"As  for  spiking,  I  doubt  it,  though  there  are  some  fal- 
conets standing  near;  but  take  them.  We  will  only  wait  for 
Ketling;  he  knows  how  to  render  aid  in  a  sudden  emergency 
better  than  others." 

Ketling  returned  as  he  had  promised;  he  was  not  a  moment 
late.  Half  an  hour  later  two  detachments  of  fifty  dragoons 
each  went  to  the  breach,  slipped  quietly  out  on  the  other  side 
and  disappeared  in  the  darkness.  Ketling  ordered  grenades 
to  be  thrown  fcr  a  little  while  only  and  then  he  ceased  and 
waited.  His  heart  beat  anxiously  for  he  well  knew  what 
a  bold  undertaking  it  WPS.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  went  by, 
half  an  hour,  an  hour;  it  seemed  that  they  should  be  there 
already  and  begin;  in  the  meantime  he  laid  his  ear  to  the 
ground  and  could  clearly  distinguish  the  dull  sound  of  the 
mattocks. 

Suddenly  at  the  left  base  of  the  castle  there  was  a  pistol- 
shot  which  did  not  make  too  loud  a  report  on  the  damp  air 
on  account  of  the  firing  from  the  trenches;  and  might  have 
passed  without  attracting  the  attention  of  the  garrison  but 
for  the  terrible  din  that  followed  it.  "They  are  there," 
thought  Ketling,  "but  will  the}^  return?"  And  then  arose 
the  shouts  of  the  men,  the  roll  of  drums,  the  shrill  sound  of 
pipes,  and  lastly  the  rattle  of  musketry,  but  hurried  and 
desultory.  The  Turks  were  firing  in  crowds  from  all  sides; 
it  was  evident  that  whole  divisions  had  hastened  to  the  as- 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


497 


sistance  of  the  sappers.  But  as  Pan  Michael  had  anticipated, 
the  janissaries  were  thrown  into  disorder  and  confusion; 
they  were  afraid  of  hitting  one  another  and  so  uttered  loud 
shouts  and  fired  at  random,  and  often  in  the  air.  The  noise 
and  firing  increased  momentarily.  When  weasels,  thirsting 
for  blood,  break  at  night  into  a  sleeping  poultry  shed  the 
quiet  building  is  soon  filled  with  noise  and  cackling:  a  similar 
uproar  suddenly  arose  around  the  castle.  From  the  earth- 
works they  began  to  throw  grenades  at  the  walls  to  illuminate 
the  scene.  Ketling  trained  his  guns  on  the  Turkish  troops 
on  guard  and  replied  with  grape-shot.  The  Turkish  ap- 
proaches and  the  walls  blazed  in  turn.  The  alarm  was 
beaten  in  the  city  for  everybody  thought  that  the  enemy 
bad  burst  into  the  fortress.  In  the  earthworks  the  Turks 
thought  that  a  strong  sortie  was  making  a  simultaneous  at- 
tack on  all  their  trenches  and  they  were  thrown  into  a  gen- 
eral panic.  Night  favored  the  desperate  undertaking  of  Pan 
Volodiyovski  and  Pan  Mushalski  as  it  had  become  very  dark. 
The  dischages  of  cannon  and  grenades  pierced  the  darkness 
only  momentarily  and  left  it  blacker  than  before.  Lastly, 
the  sluices  of  Heaven  were  suddenly  opened  and  torrents  of 
rain  poured  down.  Thunder  outroared  the  guns,  rolling, 
muttering,  howling,  and  rousing  dreadful  echoes  among  the 
cliffs.  Ketling  sprang  from  the  wall  at  the  head  of  several 
men  and  ran  to  the  breach  and  waited. 

But  he  did  not  wait  long.  Dark  forms  soon  came  throng- 
ing in-between  the  timbers  that  barred  the  opening. 

"Who  goes  there?"  cried  Ketling. 

"Volodiyovski,'  was  the  reply.  And  the  two  knights  fell 
into  each  other's  arms. 

"Well,  how  goes  it  there  ?"  asked  the  officers,  as  they  rushed 
out  to  the  breach. 

"God  be  praised!  the  sappers  are  slain  to  the  last  man 
and  their  tools  arebroken  and  scattered.  Their  labor  is  fruit- 
less." 

"God  be  praised!    God  be  praised!" 

"But  is  Mushalski  with  his  men?" 

"lie  has  not  arrived  yet." 

"We  might  go  to  his  aid.  Gracious  gentlemen,  who  will 
volunteer?" 

I  Jut  at  that  moment  the  breach  was  again  filled.  Mushal- 
nki's  men  were  hastily  returning  greatly  reduced  in  number 
for  many  had  fallen  \inder  the  bullets.  But  they  returned 


498  PAN  M/CJtAEL. 

elated  for  they  had  been  equal!)-  successful.     Some  of  the 
soldiers  had  brought  back  mattocks,  drills,  and  pickaxes  as 
a  proof  that  they  had  been  into  the  mine  itself. 
''But  where  is  Mushalski?"  inquired  Pan  Michael. 
'True,  where  is  Pan  Mushalski?"  repeated  several  voices. 
The  men  unde-r  the  command  of  the  famous  archer  began 
to  look  at  one  another;  at  length  a  dragoon  who  was  severely 
wounded  said  in  faint  tones: 

"Pan  Mushalski  has  fallen.     I  saw  him  when  he  fell.     I 
fell  beside  him,  but  I  rose,  and  he  remained.     .     .     " 

The  knights  were  deeply  grieved  to  hear  of  the  famous 
archer  s  death,  for  he  was  one  of  the  foremost  cavaliers  in 
I?6  Corcefl  of  the  Commonwealth.  They  again  questioned 
the  dragoon  as  to  how  it  had  happened  but  he  was  unable  to 
reply  for  blood  was  streaming  from  his  wounds  and  he  fell 
to  the  earth  like  a  sheaf  of  corn. 

The  knights  began  to  lament  over  Pan  Mushalski. 

The  army  will  cherish  his  memory/'  said  Pan  Kvasibrod- 
ski,    and  whoever  survives  the  siege  will  extoll  his  name." 
There  will  never  be  such  another  archer,"  cried  a  voice. 
'He  had  a  stronger  arm  than  any  man  in  Khreptyov" 
said  the  little  knight.     "With  his  fingers  he  could  press  a 
dollar  into  a  new  board.     Pan  Podbiyenta,  the  Lithuanian 
alone  surpassed  him  in  strength;  but  Podbiyenta  was  slain  at 
Zbaraj,  and  no  living  man  has  such  strong  hands  except  per- 
haps Pan  Novovyeyski." 

"A  great  loss,  a  great  loss!"  exclaimed  others.    "Suoh  cava- 
liers were  only  born  in  old  days." 

Honoring  the  memory  of  the  archer  in  this  manner  they 
scaled  the  wall.  Pan  Michael  immediately  despatched  a  mes 
senger  to  the  general  with  tidings  that  the  mines  were  de 
stroyed  and  the  miners  slain  by  a  sortie.  This  intelligence 
was  received  in  the  city  with  great  astonishment,  but  also,— 
who  would  have  imagined  it! — with  secret  annoyance  The 
-  general  and  the  bishop  did  not  believe  that  these  passing 
successes  would  save  the  city,  but  only  rouse  the  terrible  lion 
.1  more.  They  could  be  advantageous  only  in  case  of  an 
agreement  to  surrender  in  spite  of  them;  so  the  two  principal 
leaders  determined  to  carry  on  further  negotiations. 

But  neither  Pan  Volodiyovski  nor  Ketling  imagined  for 
a  moment  that  the  happy  tidings  would  produce  such  an 
Bttect.  On  the  contrary,  they  felt  sure  that  the  faintest  heart 
would  gain  courage  and  that  all  would  burn  with  the  desire 


PAN  MICHAEL. 

for  a  furious  resistance.  It  was  impossible  to  take  the  city 
without  first  taking  the  castle  and  so  if  the  castle  not  merely 
resisted  but  kept  on  thundering  the  besieged  had  not  the 
least  necessity  to  enter  into  negotiations.  There  was  abund- 
ance of  provisions  and  ammunition  and  therefore  all  that 
was  necessary  was  to  watch  the  gates  and  extinguish  the  fires 
in  the  city. 

During  the  entire  siege  this  was  the  most  joyful  night 
for  Pan  Michael  and  Ketling.  They  had  never  been  so  hope- 
ful of  issuing  alive  from  those  Turkish  toils  and  bringing 
those  beloved  heads  out  in  safety. 

"A  couple  more  assaults/  said  the  little  knight,  "and  as 
God  is  in  Heaven,  the  Turks  will  be  sick  of  them  and  will 
rather  try  to  starve  us  out.  And  we  have  sufficient  supplies 
here.  September  is  approaching  and  rain  and  cold  will 
commence  in  two  months.  T^ose  troops  are  not  very  hardy; 
let  them  once  get  well  chilled  and  they  will  retire. 

"Many  of  them  are  from  the  lands  of  Ethiopia,"  said 
Ketling,  "or  from  various  peaces  where  pepper  grows  and 
any  frost  will  nip  them.  At  the  worst  we  can  hold  out  for 
two  months;  even  under  assaults.  Moreover  it  is  impossible 
to  imagine  that  no  aid  will  be  sent  to  us.  The  Common- 
wealth will  finally  awaken  and  even  if  the  Hetman  should 
not  be  able  to  assemble  a  large  force  he  can  still  annoy  the 
Turks  with  attacks." 

"Ketling,  it  appears  to  me  that  our  last  hour  has  not  struck 
yet." 

"It  is  in  God's  hands,  but  it  also  appears  to  me  that  it 
will  not  come  to  that." 

"Even  though  someone  has  fallen,  like  Pan  Mushalski. 
Well,  it  can't  be  helped!  I  am  dreadfully  grieved  about  Mu- 
shalski, though  he  died  a  cavalier's  death." 

"God  grant  us  no  worse  one,  if  only  deferred !  for  I  confess 
to  you,  Michael,  I  should  be  sorry  for.  .  .  .  Krysia." 

"Yes,  and  I  ...  for  Basia;  we  will  work  earnestly  and 
perhaps  there  is  mercy  above  us.  For  some  reason  I  am 
very  light-hearted.  We  must  do  something  noteworthy  to- 
morrow as  well!" 

"The  Turks  have  used  boards  for  protection.  I  have 
thought  of  a  method  used  in  setting  fire  to  ships;  the  rags 
are  now  steeping  in  tar  so  that  by  noon  to-morrow  we  will 
burn  all  those  works.' 

"Ah,"  cried  the  little  knight,  "then  I  will  head  *  sortie, 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

During  the  conflagration  there  will  be  much  confusion  in 
any  case  and  it  would  never  occur  to  them  that  we  would 
make  a  sortie  during  daylight.  To-morow  may  be  better 
than  to-day,  Ketling." 

They  talked  thus  with  sanguine  hearts  and  then  went  to 
rest  as  they  were  very  weary.  But  the  little  knight  had  not 
slept  for  three  hours,  when  he  was  roused  by  Lusnia. 

"Pan  Commander,  we  have  news." 

"What  is  it?"  cried  the  vigilant  soldier  springing  up  im- 
mediately. 

"Pan  Mushalski  is  here." 

"For  God's  sake!    What  are  you  telling  me?" 

"He  is  here.  I  was  standing  at  the  breach  and  heard  some- 
body on  the  other  side  calling  in  Polish,  'Do  not  fire,  it  is  I/ 
I  looked,  and  there  was  Pan  Mushalski,  returning  in  the 
clothes  of  a  janissary." 

"God  be  praised!"  cried  the  little  knight  as  he  sprang  to 
greet  the  archer.  Dawn  was  already  breaking.  Pan  Mushal- 
eki  was  standing  outside  the  wall  in  a  white  cap  and  mail, 
looking  so  exactly  like  a  genuine  janissary  as  to  make  one 
doubt  one's  own  eyes.  When  he  saw  the  little  knight,  he 
hurried  up  -to  him,  and  began  io  give  him  joyful  greeting. 

"We  have  already  mourned  over  you,"  cried  Volodiyovski. 

Then  several  other  officers  with  Ketling  among  them  ran 
up.  They  were  all  indescribably  astonished,  and  interrupted 
each  other  with  questions  as  to  how  he  came  to  be  in  a  Turk- 
ish disguise. 

"On  my  way  back  I  tripped  against  the  body  of  a  janissary 
and  struck  my  head  against  a  cannon  ball  and  though  I 
wore  a  cap  bound  with  wire  I  was  stunned.  My  head  is 
still  tender  and  susceptible  to  the  slightest  injury  after 
that  blow  that  I  received  from  Hamdi-Bey.  When  I 
recovered  consciousness  I  was  lying  on  a  dead  janissary 
like  a  bed.  I  felt  my  head;  it  was  rather  painful, 
but  there  was  not  even  a  lump  on  it.  I  took  off  my 
cap  and  the  rain  cooled  my  head  as  I  reflected:  This  is 
lucky  far  me.  It  struck  me  that  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to 
take  that  janissary's  uniform  and  take  a  stroll  among  the 
Turks.  I  speak  their  language  as  well  as  I  do  Polish  and 
no  one  could  detect  me  by  my  speech  and  my  face  is  not 
unlike  that  of  a  janissary  I  will  go  and  listen  to  what  they 
eay.'  At  intervals  I  was  afraid  when  I  remembered  my  for- 
jner  captivity;  but  I  proceeded.  It  was  a  dark  night  with  only. 


PAN  MICHAEL.  5OI 

an  occasional  light.  I  tell  you,  gentlemen.,  I  went  about 
among  them  as  if  they  had  been  my  own  men.  Many  of 
them  were  lying  under  cover  in  the  trenches;  I  approached 
them.  One  would  ask,  'Why  are  you  wandering  about?'  'Be- 
cause I  cannot  sleep/  I  answered.  Others  were  sitting  in 
groups  talking  about  the  siege.  There  is  great  consternation 
among  them.  With  my  own  ears  I  heard  how  they  com- 
plained of  our  Khreptyov  commander  here  present/  here 
Pan  Mushalski  bowed  to  Volodiyovski.  I  repeat  their  very 
words  because  the  blame  of  an  enemy  is  the  highest  praise. 
'While  that  little  dog/  they  said, — thus  did  the  dog-brothers 
designate  your  grace! — 'while  that  little  dog  defends  the 
castle  we  shall  not  capture  it.'  Others  said,  "Bullets  and  iron 
will  not  harm  him,  but  from  him  Death  blows  like  a  pesti- 
lence/ Then  the  whole  group  would  begin  to  complain:  'We 
alone  do  the  fighting  while  the  other  troops  are  doing  noth- 
ing; the  other  troops  are  lying  with  their  bellies  to  the  sky. 
The  Tartars  are  plundering;  the  spahis  are  strolling  about 
the  bazaars.  The  Padishah  says  to  us,  'My  dear  lambs/  but 
it  is  evident  the  we  are  not  so  very  dear  to  him  since  he 
sends  us  her  to  the  shambles.  We  will  not  stand  it  long, 
but  will  go  back  to  Khotsim,  and  if  they  try  to  prevent  us  it 
may  end  in  the  fall  of  some  lofty  heads/  '; 

"Do  you  hear,  gentlemen?"  cried  Volodiyovski,  "when  the 
janissaries  mutiny  the  Sultan  will  be  frightened  and  raise 
the  siege." 

"As  God  is  dear  to  me  I  am  telling  the  simple  truth,"  said 
Mushalski.  "It  is  easy  for  the  janissaries  to  rebel  and  they 
are  greatly  disatisfied.  I  think  they  will  attempt  one  or  two 
more  assaults  and  then  gnash  their  teeth  at  their  aga,  at  the 
kaimakan,  and  even  at  the  Sultan  himself." 

"So  it  will  be,"  cried  the  officers. 

"Let  them  attempt  twenty  assaults;  we  are  prepared,"  cried 
others. 

They  clattered  their  sabres  and  looked  at  the  trenches  with 
blood-shot  eyes  and  drew  deep  breaths;  as  he  heard  it  the 
little  knight  whispered  to  Ketling: 

"Another  Zbaraj!    Another  Zbaraj!" 

But  Pan  Mushalski  again  commenced:  "I  have  told  you 
all  that  I  heard.  I  was  sorry  to  leave  them  as  I  might  have 
learned  more  but  I  was  afraid  to  be  caught  by  the  dawn. 
I  next  went  to  the  trenches  where  there  was  no  firing  so  as 
to  slip  past  in  the  dark.  I  look  and  see  no  regular  sentries, 


502  PAN   MICHAEL. 

only  groups  of  janissaries  wandering  all  about.  I  approach 
a  frowning  gun  and  nothing  is  said.  You  know  I  took 
spikes  for  the  guns.  I  push  a  spike  quickly  into  the  touch- 
hole;  it  won't  go  in, — it  needs  the  blow  of  a  hammer.  But 
since  the  Lord  God  endowed  my  hand  with  some  strength 
(more  than  once  you  have  witnessed  my  performances)  I 
press  the  spike;  it  grates  slightly  but  goes  in  up  to  the  head. 
.  .  .  I  was  glad  beyond  measure." 

"As  God  lives!  did  you  do-  that?  Did  you  spike  the  big 
gun?"  asked  many  voices. 

"I  spiked  that  one  and  another,  for  the  business  went  so 
favorably  that  I  was  loth  sorry  to  leave  it  and  so  I  went  to 
another  gun.  My  hand  is  somewhat  sore  but  the  spike  went 
in." 

"Gracious  gentlemen,  cried  Volodiyovski,  "no  one  present 
has  done  greater  things;  no  one  has  covered  'himself  with  such 
glory.  Vivat  Pan  Mushalski!" 

"Vivat!    vivat!"  cried  the  officers. 

After  the  officers  the  soldiers  began  to  shout.  The  noise 
was  heard  in  the  Turkish  trenches  and  alarmed  them  and 
dispirited  them  still  more.  But  the  overjoyed  archer  bowed 
to  the  officers  and  exhibited  his  mighty  palm  which  resembled 
a  shovel;  there  were  two  blue  marks  on  it. 

"As  true  as  God  lives!  here  is  the  witness,"  he  said. 

"We  believe!'  cried  everybody.  "God  be  praised  that  you 
returned  in  safety!" 

"I  passed  the  boarding  and  wanted  to  burn  that  work,  but 
had  nothing  to  do  it  with." 

"Michael,"  cried  Ketling,  "do  you  know  that  my  rags  are 
ready?  I  am  beginning  to  think  about  that  boarding.  Let 
us  show  them  that  we  are  foremost  in  the  attack." 

"Begin!    begin!"  cried  Pan  Michael. 

He  himself  ran  to  the  arsenal  and  sent  fresh  tidings  to 
I  the  city  : 

"Pan  Mushalski  was  not  killed  in  the  sortie;  for  he  has  re- 
turned after  spiking  two  heavy  guns.  He  went  among  the 
janissaries  who  are  thinking  of  mutinying.  In  an  hour  we 
sihall  burn  their  woodworks  and  if  at  the  same  time  it  is  pos- 
sible to  make  a  sortie  I  shall  do  so." 

The  messenger  had  scarcely  crossed  the  bridge  before  the 
walls  were  trembling  with  the  roar  of  guns.  This  time  the 
castle  commenced  the  thundering  dialogue.  In  the  pale  light 
of  dawn  the  blazing  rags  flew  like  flaming  banners  and  Jell 


PAN   MICHAEL.  503 

on  the  timber.  The  night  rain  that  had  wetted  it  was  of 
no  avail.  The  timbers  soon  caught  fire  and  blazed.  Ketling 
followed  up  the  rags  with  grenades.  The  weary  throngs  of 
janissaries  evacuated  the  earthworks  in  the  first  few  moment?. 
They  did  not  play  the  "kindya."  The  vizir  himself  appeared 
at  the  head  of  fresh  legions,  but  doubt  had  evidently  stolen 
into  his  'heart,  for  the  pashas  heard  him  muttering: 

"To  those  men  battle  is  sweeter  than  rest.  What  kind  of 
people  dwell  in  that  castle?" 

Throughout  the  army  terrified  voices  were  heard  exclaim- 
ing: 

"The  little  dog  is  begining  to  bite!  The  little  dog  is  b*- 
gining  to  bite!" 


CHAPTER  XX. 

When  that  happy  night,  so  full  of  omens  of  victory, 
August  26th  followed,  that  day  which  became  the  most  im- 
portant in  the  annals  of  that  war.  In  the  castle  some  great 
effort  was  expected  on  the  side  of  the  Turks.  In  fact,  about 
dawn  the  mattocks  were  heard  striking  on  the  left  of  the 
castle  louder  than  ever  before.  The  Turks  were  evidently 
making  haste  on  a  new  mine,  more  powerful  than  any  yet. 
Strong  bodies  of  troops  were  protecting  this  work  at  a  dis- 
tance. The  trenches  began  to  swarm.  From  the  innumer- 
able colored  banners  that  dotted  the  plain  like  flowers  in  the 
direction  of  Dlujek,  it  was  evident  that  the  vizir  himself  was 
coming  to  direct  the  assault.  Fresh  cannon  were  placed  on 
the  earthworks  by  the  janissaries,  great  masses  of  whom 
covered  the  new  castle,  taking  shelter  in  its  trenches  and 
ruins,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  a  hand-to-hand  fight. 

As  has  been  said,  the  castle  was  the  first  to  begin  to  speak, 
and  that  so  effectually  that  it  caused  a  temporary  panic  in  the 
entrenchments.  But  the  bimbashes  speedily  rallied  the 
janissaries  and  at  the  same  moment  every  Turkish  gun  raised 
its  voice.  Grenades,  flying  about  the  heads  of  the  besieged; 
smoke  was  mingled  with  dust  and  the  heat  of  fire  with  that  of 
the  sun.  Men  could  scarcely  breathe,  and  their  sight  failed 
them.  The  roar  of  guns,  the  bursting  of  grenades,  the  crash- 
ing of  cannon-balls  against  the  rocks,  the  din  of  the  Turks 
and  the  shouts  of  the  defenders  made  a  terrible  concert  which 
was  accompanied  by  the  echoes  from  the  cliffs.  Missiles 
rained  upon  the  castle,  the  city,  the  gates,  and  all  the  bastions. 
But  the  castle  furiously  defended  itself;  to  thunder  it  replied 
with  'thunder,  and  trembled  and  flashed  and  smoked  and 
roared,  its  guns  belching  forth  fire  and  death  and  devastation 
as  if  it  was  carried  away  with  Jove's  anger  and  as  if  it  had 
forgotten  itself  amid  flames  and  wafted  to  drown  the  Turkish 
thunders  and  sink  into  the  earth  or  gain  the  victory. 

In  the  castle  the  little  knight  ran  amid  flying  balls,  fire, 
dust,  and  smoke  from  gun  to  gun,  from  one  wall  to  another, 

(504) 


PAN  MICHAEL.  ^ 

and  from  niche  to  niche;  he  himself  resembled  a  destroying 
ilame.  He  seemed  to  duplicate  and  triplicate  himself:  he 
seemed  ubiquitous.  He  yelled  and  gave  encouragement. 
When  a  gunner  fell  he  took  his  place,  and  after  instilling  hope 
into  the  men's  hearts,  he  proceeded  to  another  spot.  His 
ardor  was  communicated  to  the  soldiers.  They  believed  that 
this  was  the  last  assault  and  would  be  followed  by  peace  and 
glory  and  their  breasts  were  strong  with  the  faith  in  victory. 
Their  hearts  grew  strong  and  vehement  and  they  were  seized 
\vith  the  madness  of  battle.  From  moment  to  moment 
shouts  and  challenges  issued  from  their  throats.  Some  of 
them  became  possessed  with  such  fury  that  they  went  outside 
the  walls  to  engage  the  janissaries  at  close  quarters. 

Under  cover  of  the  smoke  the  janissaries  twice  advanced  to 
the  breach  in  dense  masses,  and  twice  they  fell  back  panic- 
stricken  leaving  the  ground  strewed  with  their  bodies. 
About  noon  the  volunteers  and  irregulars  were  sent  to  their 
assistance;  but  the  less  disciplined,  throngs,  though  driven 
forward  with  darts,  only  raised  frightful  howls  and  were  un- 
willing to  attack  the  castle.  The  kaimakan  came  but  that 
did  no  good.  Each  moment  the  confusion  increased  threat- 
ening to  become  a  general  panic.  At  length  the  men  were 
recalled  and  the  guns  were  alone  worked  on  ceaselessly  as 
before,  hurtling  thunder  on  thunder  and  lightning  on 
lightning. 

Whole  hours  passed  in  this  way.  The  sun  had  passed  the 
meridian  and  gazed  down  on  that  struggle  rayless,  red,  and 
smoky,  as  if  veiled  in  a  haze.  About  three  in  the  afternoon 
the  roar  of  the  guns  had  become  so  mighty  that  the  loudest 
words  shouted  in  the  ear  could  not  be  heard.  The  air  in  the 
castle  was  as  hot  as  an  oven.  The  water  poured  on  the  guns 
turned  to  steam,  mingling  with  the  smoke  and  obscuring  the 
light;  but  the  guns  kept  on  roaring. 

Just  after  three  o'clock  the  biggest  culverins  of  the  Turks 
were  shattered.  A  few  Paters  later  the  mortar  standing  be- 
side them  was  hit  by  a  long  shot  and  burst.  Gunners  perished 
like  flies.  Every  instant  it  was  becoming  more  evident  that 
the  invincible  castle  was  gaining  the  upper  hand  and  would 
roar  down  the  Turkish  thunder  and  utter  the  final  word  of 
victory.  . 

The  Turkish  fire  gradually  In'gan  to  slacken. 

"The  end  is  near!"  Vohxliyovski  shouted  with  all  his 
might  into  Killing's  car.  lie  wanted  his  friend  to  hear  those 
words  amid  the  uproar. 


506  PAN  MICHAEL. 

"I  think  so  too!"  answered  Ketling.  To-morrow,  or 
longer  ?" 

"Perhaps  longer.     Victory  is  ours  to-day." 

"And  through  us!" 

"We  must  think  about  that  new  mine." 

The  Turkish  fire  was  growing  feebler  and  feebler. 

"Keep  up  the  cannonade!"  cried  Volodiyovski. 

And  he  sprang  among  the  gunners  and  cried:  "Fire,  boys, 
till  the  last  Turkish  gun  is  silenced!  To  the  glory  of  God 
and  the  Most  Holy  Virgin!  To  the  glory  of  the  Common- 
wealth!" 

The  soldiers,  seeing  that  the  assault  was  coming  to  an  end 
uttered  a  loud  shout  and  poured  shot  and  shell  into  the 
Turkish  trenches  with  still  greater  enthusiasm. 

"We'll  play  an  evening  'kindya'  for  you,  dogs,"  cried  many 
voices. 

Suddenly  a  wonderful  thing  occurred.  All  the  Turkish 
guns  ceased  at  once  as  if  they  had  been  cut  off  with  a  knife. 
At  the  same  time  the  musketry-fire  from  the  janissaries  in  the 
new  castle  also  ceased.  For  some  time  yet  the  old  castle  con- 
tinued to  thunder  but  at  last  the  officers  began  to  look  at  each 
other  and  inquire: 

"What  is  it?     What  has  happened?" 

Ketling  grew  uneasy,  and  ceased  firing  also. 

One  of  the  officers  suggested. 

"Perhaps  there  is  a  mine  under  which  is  to  be  exploded 
immediately.  .  ." 

Volodiyovski's  threatening  glance  transfixed  the  man  and 
said:  "The  mine  is  not  ready;  and  even  if  it  were  only  the  left 
side  of  the  castle  could  be  blown  up  by  it  and  we  will  defend 
ourselves  among  the  ruins  while  there  is  breath  in  our 
nostrils.  Do  you  understand?" 

Then  there  was  silence  not  broken  even  by  a  shot  from  the 
trenches  or  the  city.  After  the  thunders  that  had  made  the 
walls  and  the  ground  tremble  there  was  something  solemn  in 
that  silence,  but  also  something  ominous.  The  eyes  of  all 
were  intently  fixed  on  the  trenches,  but  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  through  the  clouds  of  smoke. 

Suddenly  the  measured  sound  of  mattocks  was  again 
audible  on  the  left  side. 

"I  told  you  that  they  are  only  making  the  mine,"  said  Pan 
Michael. 

And  he  turned  to  Lusnia: 


PAN  MICHAEL.  5O7 

"Sergeant,  take  twenty  men  and  examine  the  new  castle 
for  me." 

Lusnia  quickly  obeyed  and  in  a  moment  disappeared  be- 
yond the  breach.  There  was  again  silence,  only  broken  by  oc- 
casional groans  or  gasps  of  the  dying,  and  the  strokes  of  the 
mattocks. 

There  was  rather  a  long  wait  till  the  sergeant  returned. 

"Pan  Commandant/'  he  said,  "there  is  not  a  living  soul  in 
the  castle." 

Volodiyovski  gazed  at  Ketling  in  amazement.  "Have  they 
already  raised  the  siege  or  what?  The  smoke  renders  every- 
thing invisible." 

But  the  smoke  was  gradually  thinned  by  the  wind  and  at 
last  its  veil  was  rent  above  the  city.  At  that  moment  a  shrill 
and  dreadful  cry  arose  from  the  bastion: 

"There  are  white  flags  above  the  gates!  We  are  surrender- 
ing!" 

As  they  heard  it  the  officers  and  men  turned  towards  the 
city.  Every  face  reflected  awful  amazement,  words  (lied 
away  on  every  lip  and  they  gazed  at  the  city  through  wre,ath,es 
of  smoke.  In  the  city  white  flags  were  really  waving  on  the 
Russian  and  Polish  gates.  Farther  away  one  was  visible  on 
the  bastion  of  Batory. 

"Ketling,  do  you  see,"  he  whispered,  turning  to  his  friend. 

"Ketling's  face  was  also  pale. 

"I  see,"  he  replied. 

And  for  some  time  they  gazed  into  each  other's  eyes  with 
looks  that  said  everything  which  two  blameless  and  fearless 
soldiers  like  themselves  had  to  say — soldiers,  who  had  never 
broken  their  word  in  their  lives,  and  had  sworn  before  the 
altar  to  die  rather  than  surrender  the  castle.  Now,  after  such 
a  defence,  after  a  struggle  which  recalled  the  days  of  Zbaraj, 
after  an  assault  which  had  been  repulsed,  and  after  a  victory, 
they  were  ordered  to  break  their  oaths,  surrender  the  castle, 
and  live. 

As  hostile  balls  had  been  flying  over  the  castle  shortly 
before,  so  now,  ill-omened  thoughts  were  flying  in  clouds 
through  their  heads.  And  their  hearts  were  oppressed  with 
boundless  sorrow — sorrow  for  two  loved  ones,  sorrow  for  life 
and  happiness;  so  they  looked  wildly  at  one  another,  and  di- 
rected occasional  glances  full  of  despair  towards  the  city,  as 
if  wanting  to  assure  themselves  that  their  eyes  were  not  de- 
ceiving them,  and  that  the  hour  had  really  struck. 


5o8  PAN  MICHAEL. 

Then  horses'  hoofs  sounded  from  the  direction  of  the  City, 
and  in  a  few  moments,  Horaim,  the  general  of  Podolia's 
orderly  rushed  up  to  them: 

"An  order  for  the  commander,"  he  cried,  reigning  in  his 
horse. 

Volodiyovski  took  the  order,  read  it  in  silence  and  pre- 
sently, amid  a  silence  like  that  of  a  grave,  said  to  the  officers: 

"Gentlemen,  the  commissioners  have  crossed  the  river  in  a 
boat,  and  have  gone  to  Dlujka,  to  sign  conditions.  Presently 
they  will  come  here.  .  .  We  must  withdraw  the  troops  from 
the  castle  before  evening  and  raise  the  white  flag  immedi- 
ately." 

No  one  answered  a  word.  The  only  sound  heard  was  quick 
breathing. 

At  last,  Kvasibrodzki  said: 

"We  must  raise  the  white  flag,  I  will  gather  the  men." 

Here  and  there,  words  of  command  were  heard.  The 
soldiers  began  to  take  their  places  in  the  ranks,  and  shoulder 
arms.  The  clatter  of  muskets  and  a  measured  tramp  awak- 
ened echoes  in  the  silent  castle. 

Ketling  went  up  to  Pan  Michael.    "Is  it  time?"  he  asked. 

"Wait  for  the  commissioners,  let  us  hear  the  conditions.  .  . 
besides,  I  will  go  down  myself." 

"No,  I  will  go.  I  know  the  places  better,  I  know  the 
position  of  everything." 

Further  conversation  was  interrupted  by  shouts. 

"The  commissioners  are  returning;  the  commissioners  are 
returning!" 

The  three  unfortunate  envoys  presently  entered  the  castle. 
They  were  Grushetski,  Judge  of  Podolia,  the  Chamberlain, 
Jevuski,  and  Pan  Myslishevski,  Banneret  of  Chernigov.  They 
came  in  gloom,  with  bowed  heads;  on  their  shoulders  shone 
kaftans  of  gold  brocade  which  had  been  given  to  them  bv  the 
I  Vizir. 

Volodiyovski  was  awaiting  them,  resting  against  the  gun 
pointing  towards  Dlujka,  which  was  still  hot  and  smoking. 
All  three  greeted  him  silently. 

"What  are  the  conditions?"  he  asked. 

"The  city  will  not  be  pillaged,  the  inhabitants  are  assured  of 
life  and  property.  He  who  does  not  want  to  remain  may  re- 
tire to  wherever  he  likes." 

"And  Kamenets?" 

The  commissioners  bowed  their  heads. 


PAN   MICHAEL. 

"Goes  to  the  Sultan  forever  and  ever.  .  ." 

The  commissioners  did  not  depart  by  the  bridge,  for  it  was 
blocked  by  crowds  of  people,  but  they  went  out  by  the  south- 
ern gate.  When  they  had  gone  down  they  entered  the  boat 
to  go  to  the  Polish  gate.  On  the  strand,  along  the  river 
between  the  cliffs,  the  janissaries  began  to  appear.  Tho 
people  came  flocking  from  the  town  in  greater  and  great(3r 
numbers  and  occupied  the  place  opposite  the  old  bridge;  many 
of  them  wanted  to  come  into  the  castle,  but  by  the  little 
knight's  orders,  they  were  prevented  from  doing  so  by  the 
departing  regiments. 

When  Volodiyovski  had  mustered  the  men,  he  called  Pan 
Mushalski  and  said  to  him: 

"Old  friend,  do  me  one  more  service;  go  at  once  to  my  wife 
and  tell  her  for  me" — here  the  little  knight's  voice  stuck  in 
his  throat,  for  some  moments.  "And  say  to  her  for  me  .  " 
here  his  voice  again  choked  .  .  "and  tell  her  for  me,"  here  he 
said  quickly:  "this  life  is  nothing." 

The  archer  departed.  .  .  The  troops  gradually  followed 
him.  Pan  Michael  mounted  his  horse  and  directed  the 
march.  The  castle  was  evacuated  slowly  because  of  the  rub- 
bish and  debris  which  blocked  the  way. 

Ketling  approached  the  little  knight,  "I  will  go  down,"  he 
said,  setting  his  teeth. 

"Go,  but  wait  till  the  troops  are  all  gone;  go." 

Then  they  clasped  each  other  in  a  long  embrace.  The  eyes 
of  both  shone  with  unusual  brilliancy.  At  length  Ketling 
darted  away  towards  the  vaults. 

Pan  Michael  took  oft'  his  helmet;  for  a  while  he  gazed  at  the 
ruins,  at  that  scene  of  his  glory;  the  rubbish,  the  corpses,  the 
shattered  walls,  the  ramparts,  and  the  guns;  then  he  raised 
his  eyes,  and  began  to  pray. 

His  last  words  were,  "0  Lord,  grant  that  she  may  bear  this 
patiently,  give  her  peace.  .  ." 

Ah!  Ketling  had  made  haste,  not  even  waiting  until  all  the 
troops  had  marched  out,  for  at  that  moment,  the  bastions 
trembled,  a  frightful  roar  rent  the  air,  bastions,  towers,  walls, 
horses,  guns,  men,  living  and  dead,  masses  of  earth.  .  •  all 
torn  up  with  a  flash  and  mixed  and  welded  together  as  it  were, 
into  one  dreadful  charge  flew  into  the  air.  .  . 

Thus  perished  Volodiyevski.  .  .  The  Hector  of  Kamenets, 
the  first  soldier  of  the  Commonwealth. 

In  the  seminary  of  Stanislav,  stood  a  lofty  catafalque  in  the 


2  io  MICHAEL. 

centre  of  the  chapel;  it  was  surrounded  with  flaring  tapers 
and  on  it  lay  Pan  Volodiyovski  in  a  double  coffin  of  lead  and 
wood.  The  lids  had  been  fastened  down,  and  the  funeral 
service  was  just  concluding. 

It  was  the  widow's  earnest  wish  that  the  body  should  rest 
in  Khreptyov,  but  since  the  whole  of  Podolia  was  in  posses- 
sion of  the  enemy,  it  was  decided  to  inter  it  temporarily  at 
Stanislav,  for  to  that  place  the  exiles  of  Kamencts  had  been 
sent  under  a  Turkish  escort  and  delivered  over  to  the  troops 
of  the  Hetman  there. 

All  the  bells  of  the  seminary  were  tolling.  The  chapel  was 
filled  with  a  crowd  of  nobles  and  soldiers  who  wanted  to  take 
a  last  look  at  the  coffin  of  the  Hector  of  Karnenets  and  the 
first  cavalier  of  the  Commonwealth.  It  was  whispered  that 
the  Hetman  himself  was  to  be  present  at  the  funeral,  but  as 
he  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  as  the  Tartars  might  come  in  a 
chambul  at  any  moment,  it  was  decided  not  to  put  off  the 
ceremony. 

Old  soldiers,  friends  or  subordinates  of  the  deceased,  stood 
around  the  catafalque  in  a  circle.  Among  others  present  were 
Mushalski,  the  archer,  Pan  Motovidlo,  Pan  Snitko,  Pan 
Hromyka,  Pan  Nyenashinyets,  Pan  Novovyeyski,  and  many 
other  old  officers  of  the  military  post.  By  a  fortunate  coinci- 
dence, there  was  no  man  lacking  of  those  who  had  sat  in  the 
evening  on  the  benches  around  the  hearth  at  Khreptyov;  they 
had  all  come  out  of  the  war  in  safety  with  the  exception  of  the 
man  who  was  their  leader  and  model.  That  good  and  just 
knight,  terrible  to  the  foe,  and  loving  to  his  own;  that  match- 
less swordsman,  with  the  heart  of  a  dove,  lay  there  high  among 
swordsman,  with  the  heart  of  a  dove,  lay  there  high  among 
the  candles  in  immeasurable  glory,  but  in  the  silence  of  death. 
Hearts  hardened  by  warfare  were  overcome  with  sorrow  at 
that  sight;  yellow  rays  from  the  candles  gleamed  on  the  stern 
suffering  faces  of  the  warriors,  and  glittered  in  the  tears 
trickling  from  their  eyelids.  Within  the  circle  of  soldiers  lay 
P>asia,  extended  on  the  floor  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and  near 
her  Zagloba,  old,  broken,  decrepit,  and  trembling.  She  had 
followed  the  hearse  bearing  that  most  precious  coffin  from 
Kamenets  on  foot.  And  now  the  moment  had  come  when 
that  coffin  must  be  consigned  to  the  earth.  The  whole  way 
as  she  walked,  scarcely  sensible,  as  if  not  belonging  to  this 
world  and  now,  beside  the  catafalque,  she  kept  repeating 
with  unconscious  lips,  "This  life  is  nothing!''  she  repeated  it 


UH'ltAEL.  5I, 

because  that  beloved  one  had  commanded  it,  for  it  was  his 
last  message  to  her,  but  that  repetition  and  those  syllables  were 
mere  sounds  without  substance,  or  truth,  or  meaning,  or  com- 
fort. No,  'this  life  is  nothing,'  merely  meant  to  her  sorrow, 
darkness,  despair,  mortification,  merely  irreparable  misfor- 
tune, merely  crushed  and  broken  life;  a  false  statement  that 
there  was  nothing  about  her,  neither  mercy  nor  hope,  that 
there  was  simply  a  desert,  and  would  be  one  which  can  only 
be  filled  by  God  when  he  sends  death. 

The  bells  tolled,  mass  was  concluded  at  the  high  altar.  At 
last,  the  deep  voice  of  the  priest  thundered  as  if  issuing  from 
the  depths,  Requiescat  in  pace.  Basia  trembled  feverishly 
and  her  dulled  brain  was  only  conscious  of  the  thought, 
"Now,  now,  they  are  going  to  take  him  away  from  me!"  But 
they  had  not  yet  reached  the  end  of  the  ceremony.  The 
knights  had  prepared  many  speeches  to  be  given  when  the 
coffin  was  lowered^  and  in  the  meantime,  Father  Kaminski 
ascended  the  pulpit*;  he  was  the  same  who  had  frequently  been 
at  Khreptyov,  and  had  prepared  Basia  for  death  when  she 
was  ill. 

In  the  church  people  began  to  hawk  and  cough,  as  is  usual 
before  a  sermon,  then  there  was  silence  and  all -eyes  turned  to 
the  pulpit.  In  the  pulpit,  the  roll  of  a  drum  was  heard. 

The  listeners  were  amazed.  Father  Kaminski  was  beating 
the  drum  as  if  for  an  alarm;  suddenly  he  stopped  and  a  dead 
silence  followed.  Then  the  drum  was  heard  a  second  time 
and  then  a  third;  suddenly  the  priest  threw  the  drumsticks  on 
the  floor  o'  the  church  and  cried: 

"Pan  Colonel  Volodiyovski." 

He  was  answered  by  a  horrible  scream  from  Basia.  The 
emotion  in  the  church  was  something  terrible.  Pan  Zagloba 
got  up  and  carried  the  swooning  woman  out  with  the  aid  of 
Mushalski. 

In  the  meantime  the  priest  continued,  "For  God's  sake,  Pan 
Volodiyovski,  they  are  sounding  the  alarm,  there  is  war,  the 
enemy  is  at  the  boundary,  and  you  do  not  spring  up  to  seize 
your  sabre  and  mount  your  horse?  What  has  come  to  you, 
soldier,  have  you  forgotten  your  former  virtue,  do  you  leave 
us  alone  with  grief  and  terror?" 

The  breasts  of  the  knights  heaved  and  the  church  broke  out 
into  universal  weeping,  several  times  repeated,  as  the  priest 
extolled  the  deceased's  virtue,  patriotism,  and  bravery.  The 
preacher  was  carried  away  by  his  own  words;  his  face  grew 


5I2  PAN  MICHAEL. 

pale;  his  brow  broke  out  into  perspiration  and  his  voice  shook. 
He  was  carried  away  by  grief  for  the  little  knight,  grief  for 
Kamenets,  grief  for  the  Commonwealth,  ruined  by  the  hands 
of  the  followers  of  the  Crescent,  and  finally  he  concluded  his 
eulogy  with  this  prayer: 

"0  Lord,  they  will  convert  the  churches  into  mosques  and 
read  the  Koran  in  places  where  the  Gospel  has  been  read 
until  now.  Thou  hast  cast  us  down,  0  Lord,  Thou  hast 
turned  away  thy  face  from  us,  and  delivered  us  over  to  the 
power  of  the  vile  Turk.  Inscrutable  are  thy  decrees,  0  Lord, 
but  who  now  will  resist  the  Turk.  What  armies  will  fight 
against  him  on  the  border;  Thou,  from  whom  nothing  in  the 
world  is  hidden,  Thou  knowest  best  that  there  is  no  cavalry 
superior  to  ours.  What  cavalry  can  charge  for  theea  0  Lord, 
like  ours?  Wilt  thou  bring  to  nought  defenders,  behind 
whose  back  the  whole  of  Christendom  might  glorify  Thy 
Name.  0  gracious  Father,  do  not  desert  ijjs,  have  mercy  upon 
us.  Send  us  a  defender,  send  a  destroyer  of  the  vile  Moham- 
medan; let  him  come  here,  let  him  stand  among  us,  let  him 
raise  our  fallen  hearts;  send  him,  0  Lord.  .  .  !" 

At  that  moment,  the  people  at  the  door  made  way  anil  the 
Hetman,  Pan  Sobieski,  walked  into  the  church;  all  eyes  were 
turned  upon  him,  a  quiver  ran  through  the  people  and  he 
strode  with  jingling  spurs  to  the  catafalque,  lordly,  mighty, 
with  the  face  of  a  Caesar.  He  was  followed  by  an  escort  of 
iron  cavalry. 

"Salvator!"  cried  the  priest  in  prophetic  ecstasy. 

Sobieski  knelt  beside  the  catafalque  and  prayed  for  the 
soul  of  Volodiyovski. 


EPILOGUE. 

More  than  a  year  had  passed  since  the  fall  of  Kamenets, 
when  the  contention  of  parties  having  somewhat  ceased,  the 
Commonwealth  at  length  came  out  to  defend  its  Eastern 
boundary. 

And  it  came  out  offensively.  The  Grand  Hetman,  Sobieski, 
advanced  with  31,000  cavalry  and  infantry  to  Khotsim,  in  the 
Sultan's  dominions,  to  attack  the  immeasurably  superior 
forces  of  Hussein  Pasha  at  the  latter  fortress. 

Sobieski's  name  had  become  terrible  to  the  foe.  During 
the  year  that  followed  the  capture  of  Kamenets,  the  Hetman, 
with  only  a  few  thousand  men  had  accomplished  so  much,  and 
so  greatly  injured  the  innumerable  hosts  of  the  Padishah,  de- 
stroyed so  many  chambuls,  rescued  such  crowds  of  captives, 
that  old  Hussein,  though  superior  in  numbers,  commanding 
picked  cavalry,  and  helped  by  Kaplan  Pasha,  did  not  venture 
to  oppose  the  Hetman  in  an  open  field  and  determined  to  de- 
fend himself  in  a  fortified  camp. 

The  Hetman  invested  that  camp  with  his  army,  and  it  was 
generally  known  that  he  intended  to  take  it  by  assault.  By 
some,  this  was  considered  an  enterprise  unheard  of  in  mili- 
tary history,  to  attack  a  superior  army,  protected  by  walls  and 
entrenchments,  with  an  inferior  one.  Hussein  had  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  guns,  while  there  were  only  fifty  in  the 
Polish  camp.  The  Turkish  infantry  was  three  times  as  nu- 
merous as  the  Hetman's  forces.  Of  the  janissaries  alone,  so 
terrible  in  hand-to-hand  fighting,  there  were  18,000,  but  the 
Hetman  believed  in  his  star,  and  in  the  spell  of  his  name,  and 
lastly  in  the  men  under  him. 

Kegiments,  trained  and  tried  in  fire,  marched  under  him, 
men  who  had  grown  up  from  their  childhood  amid  the  din  of. 
war,  and  passed  through  innumerable  expeditions,  campaigns, 
sieges  and  battles.  Many  of  them  remembered  the  terrible 
days  of  Khmyelnitski,  and  Zbaraj  and  Berestechko.  Many 
had  served  through  all  the  Swedish,  Prussian,  Moscow,  in- 
ternecine, Danish,  and  Hungarian  wars.  He  was  accompanied 

88 


5!4  PAX  MICHAEL. 

by  the  escorts  of  Magnates,  formed  of  veterans  only;  there 
were  soldiers  from  the  frontier  posts,  to  whom  war  had  be- 
come what  peace  is  to  other  men:  the  ordinary  business  and 
course  of  life.  Under  the  Voyevoda  of  Russia,  there  were 
fifteen  squadrons  of  huzzars,  cavalry  whom  foreigners  con- 
sidered matchless,  there  were  light  squadrons,  the  same  at 
whose  head  the  Hetman  had  so  disastrously  defeated  detached 
Tartar  chambuls  after  the  fall  of  Kamenets,  lastly,  there  were 
the  land  infantry,  who  could  charge  janissaries  with  the  butts 
of  their  muskets  without  firing  a  shot. 

Those  veterans  had  been  reared  by  warfare,  for  it  had  reared 
entire  generations  in  the  Commonwealth,  but  hitherto  they 
had  been  scattered,  or  in  the  service  of  contending  parties. 
Now  that  internal  union  had  assembled  them  in  one  camp 
and  under  one  command  the  Hetman  with  such  soldiers  hoped 
to  crush  the  more  powerful  Hussein  and  the  equally  powerful 
Kaplan.  At  the  head  of  these  veterans  were  trained  chiefs 
who  had  inscribed  their  names  more  than  once  in  the  history 
of  the  late  wars,  in  the  revolving  wheel  of  victory  and  defeat. 

The  Hetman  himself  stood  at  the  head  of  them  all  like  a 
sun,  and  directed  thousands  with  his  will,  but  who  were  the 
other  leaders  who  were  to  cover  themselves  with  fame  at  this 
camp  of  Khotsim?  They  were  the  two  Lithuanian  Hetmans, 
the  chief  one,  Pats,  and  the  Field  Hetman,  Michael  Casimir 
Radzivill.  These  two  joined  the  royal  armies  a  few  days  be- 
fore the  battle,  and  now,  by  Sobieski's  orders,  they  took  up 
their  position  on  the  heights  connecting  Khotsim  and  Jvanets. 

Twelve  thousand  warriors  obeyed  their  orders,  among  whom 
were  two  thousand  picked  infantry.  From  the  Dniester  south- 
wards stood  the  allied  regiments  of  Wallachia,  who  deserted 
the  Turkish  camp  on  the  eve  of  the  battle  to  unite  their 
strength  with  the  Christians.  On  the  flank  of  the  Wallachians 
with  his  artillery  stood  Pan  Kantski,  who  could  not  be 
equalled  in  capturing  fortified  places,  in  throwing  up  earth- 
works and  handling  cannon.  He  had  been  trained  abroad, 
but  soon  excelled  the  foreigners  themselves.  Behind  Pan 
Kantski  stood  Korytski's  Russian  and  Mazovian  infantry; 
and  further  on,  the  field  Hetman  of  the  kingdom,  Dmitri 
Vishnyovyetski,  the  cousin  of  the  feeble  king.  Under  him 
was  the  light  cavalry.  Next  to  him,  with  his  own  force  of 
infantry  and  cavalry,  stood  Pan  Andrey  Pototski,  once  an 
opponent  of  the  Hetman's  and  now  an  admirer  of  his  genius. 
In  the  rear  of  himself  and  Korytski,  under  Pan  Yablinovski, 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


515 


Voyevoda  of  Kussia,  stood  fifteen  squadrons  of  Hussars  in 
glittering  mail,  with  helmets  casting  a  threatening  shadow  on 
their  faces,  and  with  wings  at  their  shoulders.  The  forest 
of  lances  reared  their  heads  above  these  squadrons,  but  the 
men  stood  calm,  confident  in  their  invincible  strength,  and 
sure  that  it  would  be  theirs  to  decide  the  victory. 

There  were  warriors  inferior  to  these  in  renown,  but  not 
in  manliness,  there  was  the  Podlasian  Castellan,  Pan  Lujetski, 
whose  brother  had  been  slain  by  the  Turks  in  Bodjanov,  for 
which  deed  he  had  sworn  a  deathless  vengeance.  There  was 
Pan  Stefan  Charnyetski,  nephew  of  the  great  Stefan,  and 
Field  Secretary  of  the  Kingdom.  During  the  siege  of  Kamen- 
ets  he  had  headed  a  whole  party  of  nobles  at  Golemb  as  one 
of  the  King's  partisans,  and  had  almost  stirred  up  civil  war, 
and  now  he  wanted  to  distinguish  himself  by  his  bravery. 
There  was  Gabriel  Silnitski,  whose  whole  life  had  been  spent 
in  war,  and  whose  head  was  already  whitened  with  years; 
there  were  other  voyevodas  and  castellans,  who  were  not  so 
experienced  in  previous  warfare,  nor  so  famous,  and  therefore 
were  more  desirous  of  glory. 

Among  the  knighthood  that  were  not  invested  with  sen- 
atorial rank,  though  more  than  usually  famous,  was  Pan 
Skshetuski,  the  celebrated  hero  of  Zbaraj,  a  warrior  who  was 
held  up  as  a  model  to  the  knighthood.  He  had  shared  in 
every  war  undertaken  by  the  Commonwealth  for  thirty  years. 
His  hair  was  gray,  but  he  was  surrounded  by  six  sons  as 
strong  as  six  wild  boars.  Four  of  these  were  already  acquainted 
with  war,  but  the  two  younger  had  still  to  serve  their  novi- 
tiate, therefore  they  were  burning  with  such  martial  ardor 
that  their  father  had  to  restrain  their  impatience  with  words 
of  advice. 

The  comrades  regarded  this  father  and  his  sons  with  great 
respect,  but  greater  admiration  was  evoked  by  Pan  Yarotski, 
who,  blind  in  both  eyes,  the  paragon  of  the  Bohemian  King 
Yan,  joined  the  campaign. 

He  had  neither  children  nor  relations,  he  was  led  by  the 
hands  of  attendants;  his  only  hope  was  to  lay  down  his  life 
in  battle,  benefit  his  country,  and  gain  glory.  There  also  was 
Pan  Jechytski,  whose  father  and  brother  fell  in  that  year. 
There  was  also  Pan  Motovidlo,  who  not  long  before  had  es- 
caped from  Tartar  captivity  and  taken  the  field  with  Pan 
Mvslishevski.  The  former  wanted  to  avenge  his  captivity, 
and  the  latter,  the  injustice  which  he  had  suffered  at  Kamen- 


PAN  MICHAEL. 

ets  where,  in  spite  of  the  conditions  and  his  dignity  as  a 
noble,  he  had  been  beaten  with  rods  by  the  janissaries.  There 
were  knights  of  great  experience  from  the  outposts  of  the 
Dniester:  the  wild  Pan  Rushchyts  and  the  matchless  archer 
Mushalski,  who  had  brought  a  sound  head  out  of  Kamenets, 
because  the  little  knight  had  sent  him  with  a  message  to 
Basia.  There  was  Snitko,  and  Pan  Nyenashinyets,  and  Pan 
Hromyka,  and  most  wretched  of  all,  Pan  Adam  Novovyeyski. 

Even  his  friends  and  relatives  desired  death  for  this  man 
for  there  was  no  consolation  left  for  him.  After  regaining  his 
health,  Pan  Adam  had  destroyed  chambuls  for  a  whole  year, 
pursuing  Lipkovs  with  special  tenacity.  After  Pan  Moto- 
vidlo's  defeat  by  Krychinski,  he  had  hunted  Krychinski 
through  the  whole  of  Podolia,  giving  him  no  rest,  and  causing 
him  no  end  of  trouble.  In  one  of  these  expeditions  he  had 
captured  Adurovich  and  flayed  him  alive.  He  spared  no  pris- 
oners, but  his  sufferings  found  no  relief.  He  joined  the  Rus- 
sian voyavoda's  hussars  a  month  before  the  battle. 

This  was  the  knighthood  with  which  Pan  Sobieski  took  up 
his  position  at  Khotsim.  These  warriors  were  anxious  to 
wreak  vengeance  for  the  wrongs  of  the  Commonwealth  in  the 
first  place,  but  secondly,  for  their  own.  In  constant  warfare 
with  the  Infidels  in  that  blood-stained  land,  nearly  every  man 
had  lost  some  dear  one,  and  carried  in  his  heart  the  remem- 
brance of  some  awful  calamity.  Therefore,  the  Grand  Het- 
man  hastened  to  battle,  for  he  saw  that  the  fury  in  the  hearts 
of  his  soldiers  was  like  the  fury  of  a  lioness  whose  cubs  have 
been  stolen  from  the  jungle  by  reckless  hunters. 

On  November  9,  1674,  the  business  commenced  with  skir- 
mishing. In  the  morning,  throngs  of  Turks  appeared  before 
the  walls,  and  throngs  of  Polish  knights  eagerly  hastened  to 
meet  them.  Men  fell  on  both  sides,  but  the  Turks  suffered 
the  greater  loss:  however,  only  a  few  Turks  or  Poles  of  note 
\  foil.  At  the  very  beginning  of  the  skirmish,  Pan  May  was 
pierced  by  the  scimitar  of  a  gigantic  spahi,  but  the  head  of 
the  latter  was  almost  severed  at  a  blow  by  Pan  Yan's  youngest 
8on.  This  deed  earned  for  him  the  praise  of  his  prudent 
father,  and  great  glory. 

They  fought  singly  or  in  groups,  the  spectators  of  the  strug- 
gle gained  courage  and  became  more  eager  every  moment.  In 
the  meantime,  detachments  of  the  army  were  placed  around 
the  Turkish  camp,  each  in  the  position  assigned  by  Sobieski. 
The  latter  took  up  his  position  on  the  old  Yassy  road,  behind 


PAN  MICHAEL.  5ly 

Korytski's  infantry,  and  gained  a  view  of  Hussein's  entire 
camp^,  and  his  face  expressed  that  serene  tranquility  possessed 
by  a  master  who  is  sure  of  his  art  before  he  commences  his 
labor.  Now  and  then  ne  despatches  adjutants  with  orders, 
and  then  he  thoughtfully  watched  the  skirmishing.  Towards 
evening  the  Voyevoda  of  Russia  came  to  him. 

"The  intrenchments  are  so  extensive/7  he  said,  "that  it  is 
impossible  to  make  a  simultaneous  attack  on  all  sides." 

"To-morrow,  we  shall  be  in  the  intrenchments  and  the  day 
after  we  shall  cut  down  those  men  in  three-quarters  of  an 
hour,"  Sobieski  calmly  replied. 

Meanwhile  night  came  on.  The  skirmishers  retired  from 
the  field.  The  Hetman  ordered  all  the  divisions  to  approach 
the  entrenchments  in  the  darkness;  Hussein  prevented  this  as 
much  as  possible  with  heavy  guns,  but  with  no  result.  To- 
wards morning  the  Polish  divisions  again  slightly  advanced. 
The  infantry  began  to  throw  up  breast-works.  Some  of  the 
regiments  had  advanced  to  within  a  musket  shot.  The  janis- 
saries opened  a  close  fire.  By  the  Herman's  command,  there 
was  scarcely  any  reply  to  these  volleys,  but  the  infantry  pre- 
pared for  a  hand-to-hand  attack.  The  soldiers  only  awaited 
the  signal  for  a  wild  charge.  Grape-shot  flew  over  their  long 
line  with  whistling  and  a  noise  like  flocks  of  birds.  Pan 
KantskPs  artillery  began  the  attack  at  daybreak  and  did  not 
cease  for  one  moment.  Not  till  the  battle  was  over  was  it 
known  what  tremendous  destruction  had  been  wrought  by  its 
missiles  falling  in  the  places  most  thickly  covered  with  the 
tents'  of  the  janissaries  and  spahis. 

Thus  passed  the  time  till  noon,  but  as  it  was  November 
and  the  day  was  short,  haste  was  necessary.  Suddenly,  all 
the  benbens  and  small  and  great  drums  were  heard.  Some 
dozen  thousands  of  throats  shouted  with  one  voice.  The  in- 
fantry, supported  by  light  cavalry,  rushed  in  the  dense  mass 
to  the  attack. 

They  attacked  the  Turks  simultaneously  at  five  points. 
The  foreign  regiments  were  led  by  Yan  Dennemark  and 
Christopher  De  Bohan,  experienced  warriors.  The  former  oi' 
a  fiery  nature  rushed  on  with  such  elan  that  he  reached  his 
entrenchment  and  almost  destroyed  his  own  regiment,  for  he 
encountered  a  volley  from  twelve  or  fifteen  hundred  muskets. 
He  himself  fell.  The  soldiers  began  to  waver,  but  at  that 
moment  De  Bohan  came  to  the  rescue  and  stopped  a  panic. 
With  a  step  as  steadily  as  on  parade  and  keeping  time  to  the 


PAN  MICHAEL. 

fosse  with  fascines,  was  the  first  to  cross  it  beneath  a  storm 
music,  he  marched  the  whole  distance  right  up  to  the  Turkish 
intrenchments  answering  volley  with  volley,  and,  filling  the 
posse  with  fascines,  was  the  first  to  eross  it  beneath  a  storm 
of  bullets;  he  raised  his  cap  to  the  janissaries,  and  ran  his 
sword  through  the  first  banneret.  Carried  away  by  the  ex- 
ample of  such  a  colonel,  the  soldiers  sprang  forward  and  a 
terrible  contest  commenced,  in  which  discipline  and  training 
vied  successfully  with  the  fierce  courage  of  the  janissaries. 

But  dragoons  were  quickly  brought  up  from  the  small  vil- 
lages of  Taraban  by  Tetwin  and  Doenhoff ;  another  regiment 
was  headed  by  Aswer  Greben  and  Haydepol,  all  distinguished 
soldiers  who,  with  the  exception  of  Haydepol,  had  covered 
themselves  with  great  glory  in  Denmark  under  Charnyetski. 
The  troops  under  their  command  were  big  and  doughty,  se- 
lected from  men  on  the  Royal  domains,  and  well  trained  to 
fight  on  foot  and  horseback.  The  gate  was  defended  against 
them  by  irregular  Turkish  soldiers,  who,  though  in  great 
force,  were  quickly  thrown  into  confusion  and  forced  to  re- 
treat; when  they  came  to  close  quarters  they  only  defended 
themselves  when  they  had  no  chance  of  escape.  That  gate 
was  the  first  one  opened,  and  the  cavalry  were  the  first  to  pass 
it  to  the  interior  of  the  camp. 

At  the  head  of  the  Polish  militia,  Pans  Kobyletski,  Michael 
Jebrovski,  Pyotrkovchyk,  and  Galetski,  stormed  the  entrench- 
ments at  three  other  points.  A  most  stubborn  fight  raged  at 
the  main  gate  on  the  Yassy  road  where  the  Mazovians  came 
in  contact  with  the  guard  of  Hussein  Pasha.  The  vizir  con- 
sidered that  gate  of  the  utmost  importance,  for  the  Polish 
cavalry  might  dash  into  the  camp  through  it,  so  he  determined 
to  defend  it  to  the  last,  and  constantly  pushed  fresh  bodies 
of  janissaries  to  the  front.  The  militia  took  the  gate  at  one 
stroke  and  then  exerted  all  their  strength  to  retain  it.  They 
were  driven  back  by  cannon  balls  and  a  storm  of  bullets  from 
small  arms.  Every  moment  fresh  bodies  of  Turkish  warriors 
sprang  out  of  the  clouds  of  smoke  to  attack  them.  Pan 
Kobyletski  did  not  wait  for  them,  but  sprang  at  them  like  a 
raging  bear,  and  two  walls  of  men  clashed  together,  swaying 
backwards  and  forwards  at  close  quarters  in  disorder,  in  a 
vortex,  in  rivers  of  blood,  and  on  heaps  of  corpses.  They 
fought  with  every  kind  of  weapon;  with  swords,  knives,  gun- 
stocks,  shovels,  clubs,  etc.,  and  sometimes  the  crush  became 
30  tremendous  and  terrible,  that  men  grappled  with  each  other 


PAN   MICHAEL. 


519 


and  fought  with  fists  and  teeth.  Hussein  twice  attempted  to 
break  the  infantry  with  a  cavalry  charge;  but  each  time  the 
infantry  fell  upon  him  with  such  extraordinary  resolution  that 
the  cavalry  had  to  retreat  in  disorder.  Pan  Sobieski  at  last 
took  pity  on  his  men  and  sent  all  the  camp-servants  to  their 
assistance. 

Pan  Motovidlo  was  leading  them.  This  mob,  very  seldom 
employed  in  battle,  and  armed  with  all  kinds  of  weapons, 
dashed  forward  with  such  ardor  that  they  even  roused  the 
Hetman's  admiration.  It  may  be  that  they  were  inspired 
with  the  desire  for  spoil;  it  may  be  that  the  fire  that  pos- 
sessed the  whole  army  that  day  was  communicaited  to  them 
also.  It  is  sufficient  that  they  charged  the  janissaries  as  if 
they  were  only  smoke  and  were  so  irresistible  that  at  the  first 
onset  they  drove  them  back  a  musket's  shot  from  the  gate. 
Hussein  cast  fresh  regiments  into  the  vortex  of  battle  and  the 
struggle  was  instantly  renewed  and  lasted  for  whole  hours. 
Meanwhile  Korytski  at  the  head  of  picked  regiments  attacked 
the  gate  in  force;  in  the  distance  the  hussars,  like  a  huge 
bird  lazily  rising  for  flight,  also  advanced  towards  the  gate. 

At  that  moment  an  orderly  rushed  up  to  the  Hetman  from 
the  eastern  side  of  the  camp. 

"The  voyevoda  of  Belsk  is  on  the  walls,"  he  cried  with  heav- 
ing breast. 

He  was  followed  by  a  second: 

"The  hetmans  of  Lithuania,  are  on  the  walls!" 

He  was  followed  by  others  and  all  with  similar  news.  The 
world  had  grown  dark,  but  there  was  light  in  the  Hetman's 
face.  He  turned  to  Pan  Bidzinski  by  his  side  and  said: 

"It  will  be  the  cavalry's  turn  next;  but  that  will  be  in  the 
morning."  / 

Nobody  in  either  the  Turkish  or  Polish  army  knew  or 
imagined  that  the  Hetman  meant  to  put  off  the  general  attack 
till  the  next  morning.  Far  from  it !  Orderlies  carried  orders 
to  the  captains  to  hold  them  in  readiness  at  any  moment.  The 
infantry  stood  in  close  ranks  and  the  cavalry  kept  their  hands 
on  their  sabres  and  lances.  They  were  all  impatiently  await- 
ing the  word,  for  the  men  were  cold  and  hungry. 

But  no  commands  arrived  and  hours  passed  on.  The  night 
became  as  black  as  a  shroud.  A  drizzling  rain  had  set  in 
about  one  in  the  afternoon.,  but  about  midnight  it  gave  way 
to  a  fierce  wind  with  hail  and  snow.  Its  blasts  froze  the  mar- 
row in  the  bones  of  men;  the  horses  were  scarcely  able  to  keep 


X    MIC  HAUL. 

their  feet,  and  men  were  numbed.  The  sharpest  dry  frost 
could  never  be  so  bitter  as  that  hail  and  snow  that  cut  like 
a  scourge.  Momentarily  expecting  the  signal,  it  was  not  pos- 
sible to  think  about  eating  and  drinking,  or  kindling  fires. 
The  weather  grew  worse  every  hour.  That  was  a  memorable 
night, — "a  night  of  torture  and  gnashing  of  teeth."  The 
voices  of  the  captains  crying  "Stand I  stand!"  were  heard 
every  instant;  and  the  soldiers,  perfectly  disciplined,  stood 
alert,  motionless,  and  patient. 

But  the  stiffened  Turkish  regiments,  equally  alert,  stood 
facing  them  in  the  hail,  and  tempest,  and  darkness. 

Among  them  also  nobody  lighted  a  fire,  or  ate,  or  drank. 
The  attack  of  the  whole  Polish  force  might  occur  at  any  mo- 
ment, and  so  the  spahis  could  not  let  their  sabres  out  of  their 
hands.  The  janissaries  stood  like  a  wall  with  their  muskets 
ready  to  shoot.  The  hardy  Polish  soldiers,  inured  to  the 
rigors  of  winter,  could  spend  such  a  night;  but  the  others, 
reared  in  the  mild  climate  of  Kumelia,  or  among  the  palms 
of  Asia  Minor,  were  suffering  more  than  they  could  endure. 
At  last  Hussein  found  out  why  Sobieski  did  not  commence 
the  attack.  It  was  because  that  frozen  rain  was  the  Poles' 
best  ally.  It  was  clear  that,  if  the  spahis  and  janissaries  were 
to  be  forced  to  stand  through  twelve  such  hours  as  those,  the 
cold  would  lay  them  down  like  sheaves  on  the  morrow.  They 
would  not  even  try  to  -defend  themselves; — at  least  till  they 
were  warmed  by  the  heat  of  battle. 

Both  Poles  and  Tartars  comprehended  this.  About  four  in 
the  morning  Hussein  was  approached  by  two  Pashas, — Yanish 
and  Kiaya,  the  leader  of  the  janissaries,  an  old  warrior  of 
experience  and  renown.  Both  their  faces  were  troubled  and 
anxious. 

Kiaya  was  the  first  to  speak:  "Lord,  if  my  'lambs7  have  to 
stand  like  this  till  daylight,  neither  bullets  nor  sword  will  be 
needed  against  them." 

"Lord,"  said  Yanish  Pasha,  "my  spahis  will  freeze  and  be 
unable  to  fight  in  the  morning." 

Hussein  pulled  at  his  beard,  foreseeing  defeat  for  his  army 
and  ruin  for  himself.  But  what  could  he  do  ?  If  he  allowed 
his  men  to  fall  out  even  for  a  moment,  or  light  fires  to  warm 
themselves  with  hot  food,  the  attack  would  commence  at  once. 
Even  now  the  trumpets  sounded  at  the  walls  at  intervals  as  if 
the  cavalry  were  about  to  advance. 

Kiaya  and  Yanish  Pashas  could  only  see  one  way  to  escape 


PAN  MICHAEL.  52i 

disaster,  and  that  was  not  to  await  the  attack,  but  to  strike  at 
the  foe  with  the  entire  force.  It  mattered  not  that  he  was 
prepared;  for,  though  he  was  ready  to  attack,  he  himself  did 
not  anticipate  attack.  Perhaps  they  might  drive  him  out  of 
the  trenches;  in  the  worst  case  defeat  was  only  a  probability  in 
a  night  battle,  but  in  the  morrow's  fight  it  was  certain. 

But  Hussein  did  not  care  to  take  the  old  warriors'  advice. 

"What?"  he  cried;  "you  have  lined  the  camp  with  trenches, 
regarding  them  as  the  one  safe-guard  against  that  hellish  cav- 
alry,— that  was  your  counsel  and  precaution;  and  now  you 
say  something  else!" 

He  did  not  issue  the  command.  He  merely  ordered  the 
cannon  to  fire,  which  was  instantly  answered  with  great  effect 
by  Pan  Kantski.  The  rain  became  colder  and  colder  and  cut 
more  and  more  cruelly;  the  wind  roared  and  howled  and  pene- 
trated clothing  and  skin  and  froze  the  blood  in  the  veins. 
Thus  passed  that  long  November  night  during  which  the 
strength  of  the  warriors  of  Islam  failed  in  them  and  despair 
invaded  their  hearts  with  a  foreboding  of  defeat. 

Even  at  daybreak  Yanish  Pasha  again  approached  Hussein 
and  advised  him  to  retreat  in  order  of  battle  to  the  bridge 
over  the  Dniester  and  cautiously  commence  the  game  of  war 
there.  "For,"  said  he,  "if  the  troops  cannot  withstand  the 
charge  of  the  cavalry  they  can  retreat  to  the  opposite  bank  and 
be  protected  by  the  river."  But  Kiaya,  the  chief  of  the  janis- 
saries, did  not  agree  with  this  opinion.  He  thought  that 
Yanish's  counsel  came  too  late  and  feared  that  an  order  to 
retreat  might  throw  the  entire  army  into  immediate  panic. 
The  spahis  supported  by  the  djamaks  must  meet  the  first 
shock  of  cavalry  of  the  unbelievers  even  if  they  are  all  de- 
stroyed thereby.  By  that  time  the  janissaries  will  come  to 
their  support  and  when  the  first  charge  of  the  unbelievers  is 
checked  God  may  perhaps  send  the  victory." 

Kiaya  and  Hussein  followed  this  advice.  Multitudes  of 
mounted  Turks  went  to  the  front  and  the  janissaries  and 
djamaks  were  disposed  in  their  rear  around  Hussein's  tents. 
Their  serried  ranks  presented  a  splendid  and  awe-inspiring 
spectacle  The  white-bearded  Kiaya,  "Lion  of  God,"  who 
had  led  only  to  victory  till  that  time,  flew  along  their  close 
ranks  strengthening  and  encouraging  them  and  recalling  for- 
mer battles  and  their  own  unbroken  power  to  their  memories. 
They  also  far  preferred  battle  to  that  idle  waiting  amid  storm 
and  rain  and  wind  that  pierced  them  to  the  bone;  and  so, 


522  PAN  MICHAEL. 

although  they  could  scarcely  hold  the  muskets  and  spears  in 
their  stiffened  hands,  their  spirits  rose  at  the  thought  that 
they  would  warm  them  in  battle.  The  spahis  awaited  the  at- 
tack with  far  less  desire,  because  they  had  to  face  its  first  fury, 
and  secondly,  because  among  them  were  many  natives  of  Asia 
Minor  and  Egypt  who  were  only  half-alive  after  that  night, 
as  they  were  extremely  sensitive  to  cold.  The  horses  also 
suffered  considerably  and,  though  covered  with  splendid  ca- 
parisons, they  stood  with  their  heads  lowered  to  the  earth, 
breathing  columns  of  steam  from  their  nostrils.  With  blue 
faces,  and  half-sightless  eyes,  the  men  had  not  the  least 
thought  of  victory.  Their  sole  thought  was  that  death  would 
be  preferable  to  such  torture  as  they  had  experienced  during 
the  past  night,  but  flight  to  their  distant  homes,  beneath  the 
hot  beams  of  the  sun,  would  be  better  still. 

Many  of  the  Polish  troops  who  were  unsufficiently  clothed 
had  died  on  the  walls  before  day;  but  on  the  whole,  they  had 
endured  the  cold  far  better  than  the  Turks,  for  they  were 
strengthened  by  the  hope  of  victory  and  an  almost  blind  faith 
that  since  the  Hetman  had  ordained  that  they  must  stiffen  in 
the  rain,  the  torture  must  infallibly  result  in  their  own  ad- 
vantage, and  the  hurt  and  ruin  of  the  Turks.  However,  even 
they  gladly  greeted  the  first  beam  of  dawn. 

At  that  moment  Sobieski  appeared  at  the  walls. 

That  day  there  was  no  bright  dawn  in  the  sky,  but  there 
was  brightness  in  his  face;  for  when  he  saw  that  the  enemy 
meant  fight  in  the  camp,  he  was  sure  that  that  day  would 
result  in  a  terrible  rout  to  Mohammed,  so  he  went  from  regi- 
ment to  regiment  repeating:  "For  the  desecration  of  churches! 
for  blasphemy  against  the  Most  Holy  Virgin  in  Kamenets! 
for  injury  to  Christendom  and  the  Commonwealth!  for 
Kamenets!"  The  soldiers'  faces  assumed  a  terrible  expres- 
sion, as  if  to  say,  "We  can  scarcely  restrain  ourselves!  Let 
us  go,  Grand  Hetman,  and  you  shall  see!"  The  gray  morning 
light  momentarily  grew  brighter  and  brighter  and  from  the 
fog  rows  of  horses  heads,  forms  of  men,  lances,  standards,  and 
finally  regiments  of  infantry  became  more  distinct  every  mo- 
ment. First  they  advanced  through  the  fog  towards  the 
enemy  like  two  rivers  on  the  flanks  of  the  cavalry;  then  the 
light  cavalry  moved,  leaving  only  a  broad  track  in  the  centre, 
along  which  the  hussars  were  to  charge  at  the  right  moment. 

Every  head  of  an  infantry  and  every  captain  had  his  in- 
structions and  knew  what  to  do.  Pan  Kantskfs  artillery  be- 


PAN  MICHAEL.  523 

gan  to  speak  more  deeply  and  elicit  also  strong  response  from 
the  Turkish  side.  The  musketry  rattled  and  a  mighty  shout 
arose  throughout  the  camp; — the  attack  had  commenced. 

The  foggy  atmosphere  obscured  the  view,  but  the  sounds 
of  the  struggle  reached  the  spot  where  the  hussars  were  await- 
ing. The  clash  of  weapons  and  the  yells  of  the  men  could  be 
heard.  The  Hetman  who  had  remained  with  the  hussars  until 
then,  and  was  talking  with  the  Eussian  Voyevoda,  suddenly 
stopped  and  listened. 

The  infantry  are  engaged  with  the  Djamaks,  the  front 
ranks  are  dispersed,  he  said  to  the  voyevoda. 

Presently,  when  the  musketry  was  slackening,  suddenly  a 
mighty  volley  roared,  quickly  followed  by  another.  It  was 
evident  that  the  light  cavalry  had  driven  back  the  spahis  and 
were  face  to  face  with  the  janissaries. 

The  Grand  Hetman  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  sprang  to 
the  battle  at  lightning  speed  at  the  head  of  a  small  body  of 
men.  The  Voyevoda  of  Russia  remained  behind  with  the 
fifteen  squadrons  of  hussars  who,  in  perfect  order,  were  only 
awaiting  the  signal  to  dash  to  the  front  and  decide  the  fate 
of  the  battle. 

They  waited  for  some  time  yet,  and  in  the  meantime,  in  the 
heart  of  the  camp,  it  seethed  and  roared  more  and  more  ter- 
ribly. Sometimes  the  battle  seemed  to  roll  towards  the  right, 
and  sometimes  to  the  left.  Now  towards  the  Lithuanian  regi- 
ments, and  now  towards  the  Voyevoda  of  Belski;  exactly  as  in 
a  storm,  when  thunders  roll  across  the  sky.  The  artillery-fire 
of  the  Turks  was  slackening,  while  Pan  Kantski's  guns  re- 
doubled their  energy.  In  the  course  of  an  hour  it  appeared 
to  the  Voyevoda  of  Russia,  that  the  might  of  the  struggle 
moved  to  the  centre  immediately  in  front  of  his  hussars. 

At  that  moment,  the  Grand  Hetman  galloped  up  at  the 
head  of  his  escort.  His  eyes  were  flashing  fire.  He  reined  in 
his  horse  near  the  Voyevoda  and  cried: 

"At  them  now,  with  God's  aid!" 

"At  them!"  shouted  the  Voyevoda  of  Russia. 

And  the  captains  repeated  the  order  after  him.  With  a 
dreadful  noise  that  forest  of  lances  dropped  with  one  move- 
ment level  with  the  horses'  heads  and  fifteen  squadrons  of  that 
cavalry  which  was  accustomed  to  destroy  everything  before  it, 
advanced  like  a  mighty  cloud? 

From  the  day  when,  during  the  three  day's  battle  at  War- 
saw, the  Lithuanian  hussars  under  Polubiriski  had  split  the 


,,24  PAN   MICHAEL. 

entire  Swedish  army  like  a  wedge,  and  penetrated  it,  a 
remembered  an  attack  made  with  such  force.  Those  s 
rons  started  at  a  trot,  but  at  two  hundred  paces  distance,  the 
captains  ordered  "Gallop!"  The  men  shouted  "Strike,  kill!" 
in  answer,  and  bent  in  their  saddles  as  the  horses  went  at  full 
speed.  Then  that  column  sweeping  on  like  a  tornado  com- 
posed of  horses,  iron  men,  and  levelled  lances,  partook  some- 
what of  the  resistless  character  of  an  element  let  loose.  It 
moved  like  a  storm  or  a  raging  river,  with  fury  and  uproar. 
The  earth  trembled  under  its  weight,  and  even  if  no  man  had 
levelled  a  lance,  or  drawn  a  sabre,  it  was  evident  that  the 
mere  weight  and  shock  of  the  hussars  wrould  overturn,  tram- 
ple, and  shatter  everything  before  them,  just  as  a  tornado 
shatters  and  levels  a  forest.  Thus  they  swept  on  to  the  bloody 
field,  strewn  with  bodies,  where  the  battle  was  raging.  The 
light  cavalry  were  still  fighting  on  the  wings  with  the  Turkish 
cavalry,  which  they  had  succeeded  in  driving  back  some  dis- 
tance. But  in  the  centre  the  dense  ranks  of  the  janissaries 
stood  like  an  indestructible  wall.  Again  and  again  the  light 
cavalry  had  broken  themselves  against  that  wall,  as  a  rolling 
wave  breaks  itself  on  a  rocky  shore.  It  was  now  the  task  of 
the  hussars  to  shatter  and  destroy  it. 

Several  thousands  of  muskets  thundered  like  a  single  re- 
port. In  another  moment  the  janissaries  settled  themselves 
more  firmly  on  their  feet  and  some  blinked  their  eyes  at  the 
sight  of  the  terrible  charge;  the  hands  of  some  of  them  trem- 
bled as  they  grasped  their  spears,  and  the  hearts  of  all  were 
beating  like  hammers,  their  teeth  were  clinched,  and  their 
breasts  heaving  terribly.  The  hussars  are  just  upon  them. 
The  loud  breathing  of  the  horses  is  heard.  Destruction,  an- 
nihilation, and  death  are  swooping  down  on  them. 

"Allah!  .  .  .  Jesu  Maria!"  .  .  .  These  two  cries  are 
mingled  as  terribly  as  if  they  had  never  broken  from  human 
breasts  till  that  moment.  The  living  wall  shakes,  bends  and 
breaks.  The  dry  snapping  of  broken  lances  for  a  moment 
drowns  every  other  sound,  and  then  is  heard  the  clash  of  iron, 
the  sound  as  of  thousands  of  hammers  striking  violently  on 
anvils,  as  of  thousands  of  flails  on  a  threshing-floor,  and  single 
and  collective  cries,  groans,  shouts,  reports  of  pistols  and 
guns,  and  howls  of  terror.  Attackers  and  attacked  are  min- 
gled in  an  indescribable  vortex.  A  slaughter  follows.  From 
under  the  press  blood  flows,  warm,  steaming,  and  spreading 
its  raw  odor  on  the  air. 


PAN  MICHAEL.  535 

The  first,,  second,  third,  and  tenth  rank  of  the  janissaries 
are  lying  like  a  pavement,  trampled  with  hoofs,  pierced  with 
lances,  and  slashed  with  swords.  But  the  white-bearded 
Kiaya,  "Lion  of  God,"  casts  all  his  men  into  the  seething 
battle.  It  matters  not  that  they  are  levelled  like  grain  before 
a  tempest.  They  fight,  they  are  seized  with  rage,  they  breathe 
forth  death,  and  seek  it.  The  lava  of  horses'  chests  presses 
against  them,  bends,  and  upsets  them.  They  lay  open  the 
horses'  bellies  with  their  knives,  thousands  of  sabres  cease- 
lessly slash  them,  blades  rise  like  lightning  and  fall  on  their 
heads,  necks,  and  hands.  They  slash  the  hussars  on  the  legs 
and  knees,  they  coil  about  and  bite  like  venomous  reptiles, 
they  die  and  avenge  themselves. 

Kiaya,  "Lion  of  God,"  constantly  hurls  fresh  forces  into  the 
jaws  of  death.  He  encourages  them  to  fight  by  his  cries  and 
with  uplifted  scimitar  he  rushes  himself  into  the  press.  Then 
a  gigantic  hussar,  destroying  everything  before  him  like  a 
flame,  falls  upon  the  white-bearded  old  man  and,  rising  in  his 
stirrups,  to  give  a  more  terrible  stroke,  brings  a  two-handed 
sword  down  on  the  white  head  with  an  awful  sweep.  Neither 
the  scimitar,  nor  the  helmet  forged  in  Damascus,  can  resist 
the  blow,  and  Kiaya,  cleft  almost  to  the  shoulders,  falls  to 
the  earth  as  if  struck  by  lightning. 

Pan  Novovyeyski,  for  it  was  he,  had  already  caused  terrible 
havoc,  for  no  one  could  withstand  the  strength  and  sullen 
fury  of  the  man;  but  now  he  had  done  that  utmost  service  by 
cutting  down  the  old  hero  who  alone  kept  up  the  obstinate 
fight.  The  janissaries  raised  a  dreadful  cry  at  the  sight  of 
the  death  of  their  chief,  and  some  of  them  aimed  their  mus- 
kets at  the  breast  of  the  cavalier.  He  turned  towards  them 
like  dark  night,  and  before  they  could  be  sabred  by  other  hus- 
sars the  shots  rang  out,  Pan  Adam  reined  in  his  horse,  and 
bowed  in  his  saddle.  Two  comrades  grasped  him  by  the  arms, 
but  a  smile,  long  a  stranger  guest,  illuminated  his  gloomy 
face,  his  eyes  rolled  in  his  head,  and  his  white  lips  whispered 
words  which  no  one  could  distinguish  in  the  roar  of  battle. 
Meanwhile,  the  last  ranks  of  the  janissaries  wavered. 

The  valia.nt  Yanish  Pasha  endeavored  to  renew  the  fight, 
but  his  men  had  fallen  into  a  panic  and  all  efforts  were  use- 
less. The  ranks  were  broken  and  shattered,  driven  back, 
beaten  down,  trampled  and  slashed,  and  they  could  not  re- 
cover their  order.  Finally  they  broke  like  an  over-strained 
chain  and  men  flew  apart  from  each  other  in  all  directions 


526  PAN  MICHAEL. 

like  separate  links,  yelling,  shouting,  casting  away  their  weap- 
ons, and  covering  their  heads  with  their  hands.  The  cavalry 
followed  them  up,  and  not  finding  any  room  for  separate 
flight,  they  huddled  together  in  dense  masses,  on  whose  necks 
the  cavalry  rode  swimming  in  hlood.  Pan  Mushalski,  the 
archer,  struck  the  valiant  Yanish  Pasha  such  a  fierce  "blow  on 
the  neck  with  his  sabre,  that  his  spinal  marrow  gushed  out  and 
stained  his  silk  shirt  and  the  silver  scales  of  his  mail. 

The  diamaks,  defeated  by  the  Polish  infantry,  and  part  of 
the  cavalry  which  was  dispersed  at  the  very  beginning  of  the 
battle,  in  fact  a  whole  Turkish  division,  now  fled  to  the  oppos- 
ite side  of  the  camp  where  was  a  rocky  ravine  some  dozens 
of  feet  deep.  They  were  driven  there  by  the  madness  of 
terror.  Many  cast  themselves  over  the  precipice,  not  to  es- 
cape death,  but  death  at  the  hands  of  the  Poles.  Pan  Bidzin- 
ski,  the  Crown  Commander,  obstructed  the  way  of  this  de- 
spairing crowd,  but  the  avalanche  of  fugitives  carried  him 
along  with  it  and  cast  him  to  the  bottom  of  the  precipice, 
which  in  a  few  moments  was  filled  almost  to  the  brink  with 
heaps  of  slain,  wounded,  and  suffocated  men. 

Dreadful  groans  arose  from  the  bottom;  bodies  were  quiv- 
ering, kicking  one  another,  or  clawing  in  the  agonies  of  death. 
The  sound  of  groaning  and  the  writhing  of  the  bodies  lasted 
till  evening,  but  more  and  more  faintly,  till  at  dark  they 
ceased  altogether. 

The  effect  of  the  shock  of  the  hussars  was  frightful.. 

Eight  thousand  sabred  janissaries  lay  near  the  trench  sur- 
rounding the  tents  at  Hussein  Pasha,  without  counting  those 
who  perished  in  the  flight,  or  at  the  foot  of  the  precipice.  The 
Polish  cavalry  was  among  the  tents;  Pan  Sobieski  had  tri- 
umphed. The  trumpets  were  giving  forth  their  blare  of  vic- 
tory when  the  battle  suddenly  flamed  up  again. 

When  the  janissaries  were  routed,  the  vizir,  Hussein  Pasha, 
at  the  head  of  his  mounted  guards  and  all  the  surviving  cav- 
alry, fled  through  the  gate  leading  to  Yassy;  but  when  the 
squadrons  of  Dmitri  Vishnyovyetski  intercepted  him  outside, 
and  began  to  slash  without  mercy,  he  turned  back  to  the  camp 
to  seek  another  outlet  of  escape,  just  as  a  wild  beast  sur- 
rounded in  a  forest  seeks  an  outlet.  He  came  back  with  such 
a  rush  that  in  a  moment  he  scattered  the  light  squadron  of 
Semenovs,  threw  the  infantry,  who  were  partly  occupied  in 
pillaging  the  camp,  into  disorder,  and  reached  to  within  half 
a  pistol  shot  of  the  Hetman  himself. 


PAN  MICHAEL.  527 

"In  the  very  camp/'  afterwards  wrote  Pan  Sobieski,  "we 
came  near  being  defeated,  and  our  escape  from  death  must 
be  attributed  to  the  extraordinary  resolution  of  the  hussars. 
In  fact,  the  pressure  of  the  Turks  was  tremendous,  under  the 
impulse  of  utter  despair,  and  it  was  the  more  terrible  because 
entirely  unexpected;  but  the  hussars,  who  had  not  yet  cooled 
from  the  heat  of  battle,  immediately  charged  them  with  the 
greatest  impetus.  Prusinovski's  squadron  first  advanced  and 
brougkt  the  attackers  to  a  halt.  He  was  followed  by  Pan  Yan 
Skshetuski  with  his  men,  and  then  the  whole  army, — cavalry, 
infantry,  and  camp-followers, — every  man  as  he  was  and 
wherever  he  happened  to  be;  they  all  charged  the  enemy  with 
the  greatest  fury,  and  there  was  a  battle  somewhat  disordered, 
but  not  less  furious  than  the  hussars'  charge  on  the  janis- 
saries. 

When  the  struggle  was  over  the  knights  looked  back  with 
wonder  on  the  valor  of  the  Turks,  who,  attacked  by  Vishnyov- 
yetski  and  the  Hetmans  of  Lithuania  and  surrounded  on  all 
sides,  defended  themselves  with  such  fury  that,  although 
Sobieski  allowed  the  Poles  to  take  prisoners  then,  they  were 
scarcely  able  to  take  the  handful  of  captives.  Finally,  when 
the  heavy  squadrons  dispersed  them  after  half  an  hour's 
fighting,  single  groups  and  single  horsemen  fought  to  the  last 
gasp,  calling  upon  Allah.  Many  glorious  deeds  were  per- 
formed, the  memory  of  which  has  not  perished  among  men. 
The  Field  Hetman  of  Lithuania  slew  a  strong  Pasha  who 
had  killed  Pan  Rudomina,  Pan  Kimbar,  and  Pan  Rdultovski, 
but  the  Field  Hetman,  coming  upon  him  unnoticed,  cut  off 
his  head  with  one  blow.  Pan  Sobieski  slew  before  the  army 
a  spahi  who  had  fired  a  pistol  at  him.  Pan  Bidzinski,  the 
Crown  Commander,  escaping  from  the  ravine  by  some  miracle, 
although  bruised  and  wounded,  at  once  dashed  into  the  thick 
of  the  fight  and  fought  till  he  fainted  with  exhaustion.  He 
was  sick  for  a  long  time,  but  recovered  his  health  after  some 
months  and  again  went  to  the  field  with  great  glory  to  him- 
self. 

Of  less  celebrated  men,  Pan  Rushchyts  fought  the  most 
furiously,  destroying  horsemen  as  a  wolf  snatches  sheep  from 
a  flock.  Pan  Yan  Skshetuski  on  his  part  performed  wonders, 
and  his  sons  fought  around  him  like  young  lions.  Sorrow- 
fully and  regretfully  did  these  knights  afterwards  think  of 
what  Pan  Yolodiyovski,  that  swordsman  above  all  others, 
would  have  performed  on  that  day,  had  it  not  been  that  he 


52g  PAN   MICHAEL. 

had  been  in  the  earth  for  a  whole  year  resting  in  God  and  in 
Glory.  But  others  trained  in  his  school  gained  sufficient 
fame  for  him  and  for  themselves  on  that  field  of  carnage. 

Besides  Pan  Novovyeyski,  two  of  the  old  knights  of  Khrcpt- 
yov  fell  in  that  renewed  fight:  Pan  Motovidlo  and  the  terrible 
archer,  Mushalski.  Several  balls  simultaneously  pierced 
Motovidlo's  breast  and  he  fell  like  an  oak  that  has  reached 
its  term.  It  was  said  by  eye-witnesses  that  he  fell  by  the 
hand  of  those  Cossack  brothers  who  had  struggled  to  the  last 
under  Hohol  against  their  mother-country  and  Christendom. 
Strange  to  relate,  Pan  Mushalski  died  by  an  arrow  from  the 
bow  of  some  fugitive  Turk;  it  pierced  his  throat  just  at  the 
moment  when,  at  the  final  defeat  of  the  Infidel,  he  was  put- 
ting his  hand  to  the  quiver  to  send  fresh  unerring  messen- 
gers of  death  in  pursuit  of  the  flying.  But  his  soul  had  to 
join  the  soul  of  Didyuk,  so  that  the  friendship  begun  on  the 
Turkish  galley  might  endure  bound  together  in  eternity.  The 
old  comrades  of  Khreptyov  found  the  three  bodies  after  the 
battle  and  took  a  tearful  farewell  of  them,  though  they  envied 
their  glorious. death.  Pan  Novovyeyski  had  a  smile  upon  his 
lips  and  his  face  was  calm  and  serene;  Pan  Motovidlo  seemed 
to  be  peacefully  sleeping;  and  Pan  Mushalski  had  his  eyes 
raised  as  if  in  prayer.  They  were  buried  together  on  that 
glorious  field  of  Khotsim  beneath  the  cliff  on  which,  as  an 
eternal  memorial  of  the  day,  their  three  names  were  engraved 
beneath  a  cros, . 

The  leader  of  the  entire  Turkish  army,  Hussein  Pasha,  es- 
caped on  a  swift  Anatolian  steed,  but  only  to  receive  a  silken 
cord  from  the  hands  of  the  Sultan  at  Stambul.  O'f  the  mag- 
nificent Turkish  army  only  small  bands  were  able  to  carry 
away  whole  heads  from  the  disaster.  The  last  legions  of  Hus- 
sein Pasha's  cavalry  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  troops  of  the 
Commonwealth.  Thus,  the  field  Hetman  drove  them  to  the 
Grand  Hetman,  and  he  drove  them  to  the  Lithuanian  Het- 
mans,  and  they  back  again  to  the  Field  Hetman,  and  so  in 
turn,  till  almost  the  whole  of  them  had  perished.  Scarcaly 
one  of  the  janissaries  escaped.  The  whole  enormous  camp  was 
streaming  with  blood  mingled  with  snow  and  rain.  So  many 
bodies  lay  there  that  nothing  but  crows,  ravens,  and  wolves 
prevented  a  pestilence,  which  usually  comes  from  decaying 
bodies.  The  Polish  troops  were  inspired  with  such  an  ardor 
of  battle,  that,  without  waiting  to  draw  breath  after  the  vic- 
tory, they  captured  Khotsim.  Immense  spoil  was  taken  in 


PAX  MICHAEL.  $29 

the  camp  itself.  The  Grand  Hetman  took  one  hundred  and 
twenty  guns  and  three  hundred  flags  and  standards  from  that 
field  on  which  the  Polish  sabre  had  celebrated  a  great  triumph 
for  the  second  time  in  the  course  of  a  century. 

Pan  Sobieski  himself  stood  in  Hussein  Pasha's  tent,  which 
sparkled  with  rubies  and  gold,  and  sent  forth  news  of  the  for- 
tunate victory  in  every  direction  by  swift  couriers.  Then  were 
assembled  the  cavalry  and  infantry;  all  the  squadrons,  Polish, 
Lithuanian,  and  Cossack  and  the  whole  army  stood  in  battle 
array.  A  Thanksgiving  Mass  was  celebrated  and  on  the  same 
square,  where  the  day  before  Muezzins  had  cried  "La  Allah 
ilia  Allah!"  Te  Deum  Laudamus  was  chanted. 

The  Hetman,  extended  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  heard  mass 
and  the  chant,  and  joyful  tears  were  flowing  down  his  worthy 
face  when  he  rose.  At  that  sight  the  legions  of  knights  not 
yet  cleansed  from  the  blood,  still  trembling  after  their  exer- 
tions in  the  fight,  chrice  uttered  the  mighty  thundering  shout: 

"Vivat,  Joannes  victor!" 

Ten  years  later,  when  the  might  of  King  Yan  the  Third 
(Sobieski)  hurled  the  Turkish  power  at  Vienna  to  the  dust, 
that  shout  was  repeated  from  sea  to  sea,  from  mountain  to 
mountain,  throughout  the  world,  wherever  bells  called  the 
faithful  to  prayer. 

Here  ends  this  series  of  books,  written  in  the  course  of 
several  years  and  with  no  little  labor,  for  the  strengthening 
of  men's  hearts. 


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1956" 


v/o    /  o    /    / 

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